The Shining Legion
by RedrumSprinkles
Summary: It is the year 17 BC. Caesar Augustus wields absolute power in his blood-soaked fists, and despite the unquestioned authority of Rome, threats brew on the horizon. Slaves are in open revolt, Britannia lies unconquered, and the untamed forests of Germania teem with grimm and barbarians. Into this darkness, the Empire's Beacon marches - the newly formed Legio Pharus. Roman Empire AU!
1. A Dawn Drenched in Blood

**Now this is a surprise for all of us, myself included. This idea struck me like lightning, and I haven't been able to let go of it since. I really hope you guys like it.**

**Oh, quick note! There's a lot of historical terms and phrases contained within (which are mostly italicized), and there's a glossary of terms at the bottom of the page if you want to check them as you go along! Or you can just read the chapter and find out later, either way works!**

**I've done my best to keep everyone in character, and I really like where it's headed! This is a wild ride folks, so grab your togas and get crackin'!**

* * *

**Chapter I: A Dawn Drenched in Blood**

This would be their first blooding. There was no denying it any longer. A horde of angry slaves stormed towards the Legion's lines, free of their shackles. As they marched closer, Ruby shifted in her armor, the countless chain links rustling softly. The grey morning dew caressed her feet, the frigid water keeping her alert in the crisp early morning air.

She checked her equipment for the fifth time since the horn sounded. The curved rectangular _scutum_ was strapped tight to her forearm, her _pila_ shouldered, her gladius grasped tight in a sweaty palm. Yang nudged her, bearing a large, reassuring grin. Despite the unease that boiled in the pit of her stomach, Ruby returned her sister's smile. They were inseparable. When mighty Caesar beseeched the people of Rome to take up arms, they had responded as one.

Now the rabble approached, the weight of their numbers giving a low rumble as they marched across the plain. Unlike the Legion that stood before them, they were disorganized, howling like mad dogs.

And the legionnaire sisters were as ready as they'd ever be. Their comrades formed an impenetrable line of soldiery, a mass of armor and swords that stretched across a grassy knoll. A year of brutal drills had forged them into a disciplined war machine, ready to fight and die in the name of Rome.

_Let them come_, Ruby thought.

Centurion Acheron stalked up and down the ranks, a piercing glare inspecting the fresh-faced legionaries. Ruby and her sister were on the front line, one of the first of the Legion's cohorts to receive battle. _Any moment now_. Any moment, and the _cornicen_ would blow his curved trumpet.

The slaves were even closer now, thousands and thousands of faunus and humans that had thrown away their farming tools and picked up weapons. They formed an enormous, amorphous mass, one that made its way ever closer.

_Awoooooooooooooo_. _Awoooooooooooooo_. The trumpets sounded their low howl, one voice joined by countless others. The fourth centuria's _cornicen _added his instrument to the call. _Awooooooooo._

"Fourth Centuria," Acheron bellowed above the resounding noise, "forwaaaard _march_!" They snapped to attention, sandals slapping against sandals, hundreds of feet hammering the earth.

"AYE!" They cried as one.

Following Acheron and their _signifer_, they marched towards the enemy. Ruby let loose a deep breath. _One. Two. Right foot, left foot._ _One after another_. Yang had not lost her radiant smile. Even as a little girl, the blond-haired beauty was always spoiling for a fight. It had caused them no shortage of trouble, but Ruby wouldn't trade her for anyone. With a deep breath and quick chinstrap re-adjustment, she sent a quick prayer to the gods of war.

_Fearsome Mars and Dreadful Mara, fell twins born of battle, I beseech you for guidance. Protect your faithful today in the holy act of war. Guard my sister, and let my sword fall true._

Her prayer ended, and Ruby could see the face of the enemy. They were hard men and women, skin tanned and leathery from years spent toiling in the sun. Many of them were faunus, bearing a set of horns or pair of animal ears that protruded from short-cropped hair.

"Fourth Centuria! Ready _pila_!" This was it. Ruby and her hundred comrades hoisted their javelins, gripping the weapon and settling into a throwing stance. Nerves racked the new soldiers, and one man spilled the contents of his breakfast onto the earth. "_Steady_!" Acheron roared. The man wiped his mouth, eyes now set on his task before him.

"Loose!" The centurion bellowed. They obeyed, hurling their _pila_ into the press of rebels. Howling through the air, a tide of javelins crashed into the slaves. Most lacked shields or protective armor. They died screaming, blood pouring from their wounds. Many fell to the barrage, but still they came, howling war cries. "Lock shields and brace!" The whistle blew. No time for a second volley.

Their shields slammed together, a clash of wood and metal. This was Roman discipline, unwavering, merciless.

Like the tides upon the beach, the rebel army crashed against the _scuta_. Ruby grunted as the slave before her hurtled into her shield, locking them into a crushing embrace. No blows were exchanged, no flash of swords. Such was the press of warriors; she couldn't even lift her sword. Her left arm ached, working hard against the weight assaulting it.

The man roared, his face mere inches from her own. He was also unable to strike, pressed to breaking point by his allies. She snarled back, her brothers pushing against her, straining to drive the enemy back.

Sandals and bare feet dug into the earth, churning dirt and grass as the armies struggled against each other. Feet slid, curses spat, shields braced, but the line did not budge.

Seeing no other option, Ruby slammed her helmet into the man's face, feeling his nose shatter under the strike. He fell back, swearing as blood coursed from his nostrils. There was an opening. Like lightening, she gave a cry and thrust her gladius forward, feeling it dig deep into the man's chest.

Shock and pain rippled across his visage as he toppled, Ruby's sword lodged in his heart. _I…_ _I did it!_ _Oh gods… oh gods his __**face**__! _There was no time to reflect, as her kill allowed Yang enough breathing room to strike as well. The Legion's swords burst forward in a hurried rush of metal, stabbing back and forth from behind their broad shields. Screams echoed across the battle lines.

A polearm fell across her scutum, sending a shock along her arm. She twisted, stabbing the attacker under his arm. Blood spurted forth, the warm crimson ichor splashing against Ruby's chainmail. He fell clasping his wound, screaming as his comrades trampled him underfoot.

Yang bashed a man in the face with the brass center of her shield, breaking his nose and throwing him onto Ruby's gladius. She twisted it, but it stuck fast in his spine. Kicking at the yowling faunus, she tried to free her sword. Another slave stabbed at her with a spear, but she was rooted in place, unable to avoid the attack. Her eyes went wide as the point screamed towards her throat.

Snarling, Yang spun and hacked the spearhead off, where it clattered uselessly against Ruby's armor. _No time to think, no time to thank her, just stab! Stab, block_, stab! Her arm grew weary as the chorus of war grew, more and more victims falling to the Romans – to Ruby.

Acheron blew his whistle, the signal to rotate. Spinning, Ruby slipped in between the thin gaps in the Roman line, while the next legionnaire stepped forward to take her place. Worming her way past her friends and comrades, they nodded, giving her small smiles that let her know they were proud.

Yang joined her at the rear of the Roman lines. They were breathless, bloody, and spent. The rotation was in effect to ensure that fresh soldiers stayed at the front, forcing tiring enemies to battle rested troops.

"Jupiter's cock!" Her sister swore. "Ruby, are you ok?" Ruby nodded, her breaths sharp in her chest. Yang looked unhurt, thank the gods.

"I'm fine, Yang." Gallons of blood covered her armor, soaking the white linens beneath. "It's not mine. Mara blessed us both." Ruby whispered, paying homage to the goddess of warrior women.

"I'd say!" Yang clapped her on the back, ever-present smile shining bright. "That was well fought!" Golden sweat-stained hair poured out from underneath her helmet, matted and spattered with gore.

"Thanks for the save, by the way."

"Any time. It's the least I can do for my little sis." Ruby thanked her again and grabbed hold of the soldier in front of her. Soon enough, Acheron's whistle would sound again, and they would be re-assimilated into battle order.

As she caught her breath, the fact that she was now a killer danced above her head. She shook her head, wishing the thought away. _It is my duty_. She insisted to no one but herself. _It is for Rome, and for glory eternal_. _It was for Yang, and my brothers and sisters in arms. _But the mantra did little to stem the growing grief.

* * *

"It seems battle has been met." Weiss Schnee turned to the speaker, her fellow _Tribunus Militum_ Jaune Arc. They were both well-bred political stock, and incredibly young for their lofty command positions. At eighteen, they shared the honor of being the youngest tribunes in the Roman Legions.

Despite these shared traits, Weiss held nothing but contempt for her peer. The Arc family had recently turned patrician, Jaune's father marrying into the ancient Cornelii household. And now, the Arc patriarch deemed it prudent to send his son to the Legions in an attempt to bolster his progeny's senatorial standing. _A good move… if the son in question wasn't a complete dolt._

"So it has." She replied. Her horse nickered, smelling the blood that befouled the crisp morning air. "Whoa. Easy, Konrad." She patted his flank. Weiss had spent her entire life preparing, toiling to help build the Schnee name into a political dynamo. Years of training and lessons under her domineering father had produced an exemplary warrior and scholar, a true Daughter of Mara. Only two months ago, she had ridden forth from Rome under a firm salute, the banner of the Legio Pharus at her back. Now, she stood in Gaul, with a horde of rebel slaves before her.

_Glory shall come to the House of Schnee, hard-won on the battlefield. Father shall be proud, and the Schnees will stand tall before Caesar and the Senate. Even if I have to shoulder my way through up-jumped scruffy-haired jackasses to do it!_

"So… what now?" Jaune asked. Wiess sighed.

"We observe." She spat. _It's the obvious thing to do, however much it irks me_. Weiss desperately wished to join the battle.

Jaune's retinue of bodyguards examined her. She sniffed indignantly, tucking a strand of pale white hair into her horsehair helm. _And speaking of his companions, what business does he have bringing a _greek _with him_? Sure, it may be Pyrrha Nikos, the teenaged veteran of the legendary Silvershield Company, _but a greek nonetheless_! The sight of a foreigner so near the Roman command rankled her deeply.

Pyrrha noticed her glare and nodded politely, a genuine smile on her face. Green eyes sparkled behind her Corinthian helm, bright and full of mystery.

"What do you think Pyrrha?" Jaune said, pivoting on his horse.

"I am amazed by the discipline of your soldiers, Sir." She purred, her accent thick and rich. "The might of the Roman Legions is truly a wonder to behold." _Yeah, 'cause we conquered you bloody barbarians a century ago._ Weiss fumed. The nerve of this man, bringing _barbaros_ along!

"What about the situation as a whole?"

"Lady Schnee has the right of it. Patience is a value well-rewarded on the battlefield." She said. "It is an important lesson to learn." _She's correct on that matter, at least_. Jaune smiled.

"Thanks, Pyrrha." She gave short bow, a faint dusting of red staining her armored cheeks.

Weiss' warhorse must have sensed her discomfort. He reared, pawing at the air with powerful hooves.

"Easy!" General Ozpin said, riding up to the assorted Roman commanders. His own horse was a gallant red destrier, muscled and strong. Behind him rode his second-in-command, Senator Glynda Goodwych. "Your time will come, children." A smile lurked in his eyes. Caesar Augustus himself chose Praetor Ozpin to sally forth with the new Legion… a veteran of the Civil War just a decade past; he was a formidable and reputable warrior. "As of right now, the legionaries should be more than enough to carry the day."

Hearing those words cause Weiss to flinch. _Patience be damned, the opportunity for glory is_ _right_ _there_! She saw it, calling for her amidst the horde of struggling soldiers, in the shouts and cries of battle!

Years of history lessons and strategy texts screamed at her, begging her to ignore the voice that demanded satisfaction. Her blood curdled and burned against her bones. These arrogant slaves had the ludicrous notion to take up arms so close to the capitol! It was her honor and duty to cut them down like dogs! But no, she must let the lowborn footsloggers slake the Roman thirst for justice. She snarled, a low and ugly sound.

"I've changed my mind, General. I believe a swift strike on the right flank could crush these rebel dogs in a single stroke." A grey eyebrow shot skywards.

"Oh?"

The words came forward, flooding from her mouth, building upon each other, one after another. "Yes! The slaves are barely armored, and would be easily run down under the weight of horse. And instead of risking Roman casualties so early in our campaign, our cavalry could strike a crushing blow, and alleviate potential losses." Ozpin sipped at a wine-skin.

"You raise a good point, Weiss Schnee."

"I do? I mean, of course I do!" Wiess blurted, reddening at her sudden outburst. He nodded.

"Although I would still call it the pinnacle of foolishness." Her heart fell.

"But sir-"

"I will not stop you, but know that I disapprove." He turned to Weiss. "Do what you will. I await favorable results." Sighing deeply, she nodded to her adjutant Marble. _I'll show that prissy ass what a Schnee can do_. Weiss summoned the roman cavalry. They were few in number – only a hundred or so – but they would serve.

"It appears as though our short wait is over." Weiss said, wearing a feral grin. "Now come, Jaune. Let us join the battle."

Jaune gulped.

* * *

It was almost her turn again. The butchery had not let up since Ruby and Yang began their rest. Howled curses and screams of dying men assaulted their ears as the battle raged on. She steeled herself for what was to come. She prayed to Mars and Mara again, begging for the bravery to face the enemy again. Give her courage to kill.

The line shuffled forward, and Sky Lark passed them, breathing hard. Blood poured from a gash in his shoulder, but he bore a grim smile. Yang patted him on the back.

"Well done."

_Two more to go_. Ruby thought, her hand tightly bound in the armor of the legionnaire before her. The slaves had pulled away for a few minutes, the lines spitting and mocking each other. _Two more whistles, and it's my turn again_.

With a resounding cry, the armies met once more, and Ruby pushed hard against her comrade, steeling the front with all her might.

Blood flowed once more when the press was broken. She turned to Yang. They bumped their helmets together, metal ringing softly. It was an old, familiar gesture. One of their oldest.

"Mara bring you luck!"

"And to you as well!" Acheron whistled, and the lines shuffled forward. A slave barreled forth, hurling himself over the wall of shields. Ruby rolled him away with the brunt of her shield, bringing her gladius down to spear his throat. He gurgled and spat, clutching at the spraying wound.

"Nice one, Ruby!" Ruby just stared at the man. A small set of tusks jutted forward from his jaw. She watched the light fade from his eyes, and felt a turning in her stomach.

Acheron blew his whistle, and it was her turn once more. Ruby pushed forward and dug in, steadfast. A shrieking woman brought an ax across her shield, clanging against the brass center. She jammed the lip of her _scutum_ into the woman's leg, snapping it in two. With a wordless cry, she brought her sword down, the steel biting deep between her neck and shoulder. Twisting in agony, the rebel writhed and collapsed.

The earth shook beneath her. _Is that… the sound of hooves_? She didn't have time to ponder it, as another berserk slave rushed her, splashing through the puddles of viscera. She dueled with him, trading sword blows and blocking his swift strikes. A minute passed before an opening appeared. Screaming, she threw her shield forward, shunting him back. Any second now, the whistle should sound.

Any second now.

Aannnnny second.

_WHERE IN HADES IS THE WHISTLE?_

Yang bellowed beside her.

"Acheron is down!" Ruby turned, and sure enough, speared upon a pitchfork was their Centurion. Panic, cold and sudden, shocked its way through the Fourth Centuria. Their Centurion was dead? What now?!

A thundering conch soon distracted them from their dead leader. Like a hammer upon an anvil, the Legion's cavalry smashed into the slave's right-most flank, bowling over the rebels and crushing them under the weight of heavy horse. They pushed deep into the pack of slaves, stabbing down with vicious spears. A cry of support rang out across the entire cohort as they cheered on their mounted brethren.

At the head of the charge rode the most gallant soldier Ruby had ever seen. Ivory hair spilled out from underneath her helmet, a shout of defiance on her painted red lips. A scar ran its way over one of her piercing blue eyes, and a crimson cape trailed behind her, rippling with speed as she slashed and cut her way through rebel lines.

But against all odds, the slaves stood their ground, and the charge stalled. The white-haired officer was torn from her perch, her horse screaming as it was gutted. Despair clenched at Ruby's heart, black and suffocating.

"No!" Yang turned around, pushing away an attacker.

"What is it?"

"We have to go save her!"

"Fuck that, she's dead! We have-" She brought her gladius around in a sweeping arc, disemboweling an attacker. "We have ourselves to worry about!" Ruby ignored her.

"To me!" She bellowed, "Shields on me!" She burst forward, not caring if her fellow legionnaires followed. Her shield swung around, battering a slave away from her path.

"Damn it, Ruby!" Yang roared, storming forward to follow her sister. "Close the ranks!" She shouted over her shoulder.

A dozen Romans took up Ruby's cry, rushing forwards to aid her advance. Thanking them wordlessly, she pressed forward, hacking and stabbing at the wall of flesh before her. Even with Yang's help, it was not easy. The slaves were reluctant to lose ground. After a minute of backbreaking effort, the small task force reached the officer.

She clutched at an open wound, which leaked blood down her pale-skinned sword arm. Matted white hair fell about her shoulders, freed from the confines of her helmet. Her once glorious cape was torn to shreds, and she swung her _pugio_ around wildly, daring an enemy to approach.

Her eyes nearly popped from their sockets when she saw Ruby and her contingent of soldiers.

"Shields! _Shields_!" Ruby cried. Shoving aside the rebels, the Romans formed a small barrier around the wounded woman. Ruby threw aside her last _pila_ and bent down before the noble lady, gesturing her to climb aboard her back.

Nodding weakly, she did so, adding a considerable weight. Grimacing, she stood.

"_Back to the lines_!" They obeyed, struggling against the weight of their enemies. An ax whirled around the top of a _scutum_, burying itself in the face of a legionnaire. He fell like a sack of meat, without word or ceremony. Yang did her best to close the gap, growling and shoving her shield before her.

"W-Where is… ugh…" The woman moaned in her ear.

The gods favored Ruby that day, and her compatriots stood fast against the enemy. They managed to break away from the press of slaves, carving their way through dozens of warriors. The tight circle drew tight against her and her burden, but she managed to stumble back to Roman lines, where her legionary brethren swallowed them behind a wall of _scuta_.

Ruby sank to her knees, the weight of the woman too much to bear now that her lungs burned and muscles ached. Slowly, she set her down, careful not to aggravate her wounds.

"That was… well fought, soldier." The officer managed between rasping breaths.

"Thank you, Ma'am. Are you hurt?" Her white hair shook.

"Looks worse than it is. Hurts like a bastard though."

Another conch sounded - the cavalry had wheeled around. A second charge hammered the rebel lines, scything the rebels down like wheat. They broke apart, shattering under the weight of the assault. Weapons clattered to the ground as the slaves turned to flee, desperate to escape the murderous hooves that hounded them.

In no time at all, the battle devolved into slaughter.

"Make way!" The Roman lines separated, allowing a rider to pass between the ranks. "Make way!" The voice bellowed again. He was another officer, panting and beaming behind a golden head of hair. The destrier came to a halt before them, nickering and snorting.

"Not bad, huh, Ice Queen?"

"You… **_JACKASS_**!"

Ruby sighed, letting exhaustion seep through her. This wasn't her battle.

* * *

Yang picked her way through the corpses, sandals squelching softly as they trod through the blood-soaked earth. _So this is war_. She thought to herself. Praise Jupiter, Juno, and the whole bloody host of gods that Ruby was ok. It had been incredibly brave of her to break ranks like that. Not to mention incredibly foolish. _Let it never be said that bravery and foolishness weren't two sides of the same coin._ Yang mused.

While her sister spoke with the officer, Yang strode across the battlefield, looking for survivors. Sobs and wails unending echoed across the muddied grounds. Yang put a few slaves out of their misery when it was clear their agony was too great. A sharp jab with her gladius, a twist of her wrist. All it took.

Another wounded faunus blinked up at her as she lay in a pool of viscera, defiance and rage pulling her features taut. Long black hair clung to her, dripping with blood and sweat. Although grime and gore smeared her face, Yang couldn't help but notice she was extraordinarily beautiful.

Sighing, she poised the sword above her heart. The faunus hissed, black cat ears pulled back in sheer hatred. It gave Yang pause. _She is not nearly as wounded as the others_. _I can save her._

"What's the matter, coward?" The cat-faunus sneered. "End me!"

The sword-point lowered.

"I will not." The slave jerked forward, before Yang put the tip of her blade at the center of her throat. "Ah-ah-ah, none of that now."

"Kill me already!" She cried. "You gutless, witless coward!"

"No, I don't think I will. In fact, I think I've found my first spoil of war." Yang grinned. Caesar had been incredibly magnanimous when commissioning the Legio Pharus. While monetary loot would be distributed normally among the Legion, personal slaves were allowed to whatever soldier managed to capture them.

A camp slave would no doubt come in handy. An extra pair of hands to help with cooking, cleaning and entrenching would always be welcome. And when her sixteen years of service were over, she could sell her for a heavy sack of coin! Yang grinned.

"You cannot possibly mean to make me a slave again." The faunus girl spat. A sigh escaped Yang's bloodied lips.

"I'm trying to save your life."

"Doubtful." She sneered.

"Look kitty." Another hiss. _Ok, don't call her kitty_. "_Submit_. Do you know what will happen to you if you don't?" Yang didn't wait for an answer. "Crucifixion. Well… probably rape first, _then _crucifixion." This gave the faunus pause. "The only way I can save you from that is if you surrender yourself to me." Tears welled in the girl's eyes , threatening to spill over onto her bruised and bloodied cheeks. Slowly, the feline ears relaxed, and she shook her head. _Pretty cute_. Yang thought, flashing her new slave a toothy grin.

"You've made a coward out of me." She murmured, bowing her head. "I… I submit."

"That's more like it!" Yang laughed, clapping a hand on her shoulder, while the girl looked up at her in bewilderment. "I'm Yang, your new master. What should I call you?"

"Blake." The slave said, yellow eyes downcast. "My name is Blake."

* * *

**A/N: Well damn son, that was a wild ride! What did you think? Please, let me know! This is probably my most out-there, bonkers story yet, so letting me know helps a ton! Drop a review, and I'll be sure to reply in the next chapter! :D **

**Thanks so much for giving it a try! I'm sure I flubbed up something... I tried hard to stay true to the times, despite... well... you know, it being a RWBY story and all. There's some additional notes I made further down in the A/N, hopefully they may address any questions you may have.**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Legio Pharus: Lit; Beacon Legion. Can be interpreted as "The Shining Legion". Fictional legion raised in Rome to campaign across the Germanic and Northern borders of the Empire, after defeating an upstart slave rebellion in Gaul.**

**Barbaros: Probably incorrect latin for "barbarian".**

**Centuria: (Century), a unit division in the roman legions. Literally means 'one hundred men' but in practice, these often numbered around eighty men.**

**Centurion: Roman military commander, in charge of eighty men.**

**Cohort: Sub-grouping of the legion, composed of six _centuria_.**

**Cornicen: Lit; Horn blower. A soldier who was responsible for communication between regiments and centuries... with a horn.**

**Destrier: Shorthand of sorts for "war-horse". Technically medieval in origin, but eh, it's a fun, old-sounding word, so it's here.**

**Gladius: Ubiquitous straight sword of the Roman Legion.**

**Pilum (Pila – plural): Javelin used by Roman legionaries. Each soldier carried two, and were thrown before contact with the enemy. They were intended to render enemy shields useless, but were also effective against unarmored targets.**

**Pugio: Dagger used by Roman soldiers.**

**Scutum (Scuta – plural): Iconic rectangular shield carried by legionaries. Slightly convex, it was rimmed in bronze or hard leather, and bore a thick metal boss in its center.**

**Signifer: Standard-bearer for a century.**

**Tribunus Militum: Drawn from the ranks of plebian noble houses or Tribunes, five of these officers acted as the Legate's (General's) staff. Their actual role in the Legions was somewhat nebulous, but they probably weren't as active as I portrayed them here. But hey, more fun stuff for Weiss and Jaune to do.**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Women in the Legion: I know… I know… You're thinking WTF?! Yeah, you got me there. It was a necessary change. I wanted to do a Roman legion story, and I wanted RWBY characters. Sue me. Also, see Mara below.**

**Roman History in general: Mostly untouched, but differences and changes will appear.**

**Names of Characters: Some names will be tweaked slightly, while some remain the same. In an attempt to remain balanced, it won't just be the RWBY cast with weird, misplaced names. Besides normal Roman names, odder, more RWBY-esque names will also be used for regular roman citizenry (OCs). You saw a bit of this with 'Marble', Weiss' adjutant. You'll see some more of this later on.**

**Ages of characters: The more historically minded of you are already frothing at the mouth that a bunch of women are in the Roman military, so I figured making them unrealistically young couldn't make it much worse. The reason for this is that I'm trying to capture a lot of the themes and character traits that exist in RWBY, which are impossible to portray and even moot at the age required to match their station.**

**Where is [Insert your favorite RWBY character here]?: Rest assured, they _are_ here. The whole gang will come in due time.**

**Weiss being racist: This is nothing new, move along please.**

**Faunus: So imagine perfectly normal history… but now there's faunus too. Pretty much all there is to it. Will be expanded upon further on in the story.**

**Grimm: Grimm exist now in ancient Roman times, but are nowhere near as populous as they are on Remnant. About as common as regular animals.**

**Mara: Twin goddess of Mars, and does not actually exist in Roman mythology. It's an OC Goddess that will come to explain the heavy presence women in ancient society. While a similar (historical) goddess named Bellona exists, she is incredibly obscure, and Mara here is far more active in my fictional mythology.**

**Use of the word 'Hades': Pluto is the Roman name for the Greek god of death, but Romans still frequently used 'Hades' to refer to hell or the underworld.**

**Use of the word 'fuck': Actually very common in latin. Used to hilarious extremes by the poet Catullus. Seriously, go check out 'Catullus 16' it's hysterical.**

**Yang practicing slavery: Hi, I'm RedrumSprinkles. Welcome to Roman times, I'll be your guide for this magical journey.**

**Thanks again! You guys rock! Can't wait to see ya'll next chapter!**


	2. Promotions and Preparations

**A/N: And we're back, with another chapter of Roman Empire AU! I really enjoy writing this story, far more so than I originally envisioned. I hope you guys like it!**

**Review Replies are at the bottom, as well as a glossary of terms and other notes of that ilk.**

* * *

**Chapter II: Promotions and ****Preparations**

Ruby watched the officers bicker. Well... that was untrue. The white-haired one bickered, while the other one just sat on his horse and suffered her verbal lashing.

"And _furthermore_-" Ruby coughed, interrupting the tirade.

"Hm? What is it, Soldier?"

"Your wound, Ma'am. I suggest seeking a medic as soon as possible." As if noticing the wound for the first time, she recoiled. Blood continued to roll down her arm, falling to the churned and muddy earth below.

"Good thinking, soldier. Follow me." She said, gesturing.

"Yes Ma'am." Ruby stepped into line behind her, careful to obey every word. The punishments rendered to legionaries were brutal, and often subject to whim.

"I'll deal with you later!" The white-haired woman cried, rounding on the mounted officer. With a heavy sigh, she turned to Ruby. "Your name, soldier?"

"Ruby. _Milites_ Ruby Rose ma'am."

"Tribunus Militum Weiss Schnee." Ruby paled. She had no idea she had saved such a high-ranking member of the Legion, and a noble at that! She buried a knee in the mud.

"My lady! I am truly sorry, I did not-" The tribune sighed. She stalked off towards the returning cavalry, clenching her right arm tight.

"Enough groveling." She said, a note of annoyance ringing clear. "Hold your head high, soldier. You've done me a great service today."

"It was my duty and honor, Lady." She said, stumbling after the officer.

"You are humble and brave. Qualities that suit a Roman well, Ruby Rose. You would be a much better Tribune than that ponce Jaune." Ruby bowed, a fist over her heart. It was all she could do to keep from shaking.

"My lady honors me greatly with her praise." A clattering of hooves sounded the arrival of the riders.

"Oi! Marble! Report!" As the horses approached, Weiss appraised Ruby with her ice-blue eyes.

"Lady Schnee, you've been wounded!" The adjutant – Marble, apparently – exclaimed.

"No thanks to you useless fools." She growled. "I told you to stay close." The man bowed his head, remorse and shame overwhelming him.

"We… we could not match your pace, Lady." Weiss sighed. Blood still leaked through the fingers that bound her wound, running a deep, deep red.

"Albus? Where are you, you miserable old sod?" She spat through clenched teeth.

"Right here, my Lady, had you the patience to look about." An older man dismounted, swinging from his seat. His face was gaunt and stern, course bristles that colored his jaw a silvery hue.

"Enough of your sordid tongue, Albus." He removed his helmet and dug through a bag of some sort, bringing forth some dressings.

"Should my Lady tire of my services, I would be all too happy to make myself scarce."

"Stow it, you old goat. Now patch me up, and be quick about it! There is much to be done." She turned to Ruby as the man inspected the gash.

"Are you wounded, soldier?" Weiss asked. "Albus has been my family's medical attendant for many years. I can assure you, he is quite skilled."

"Spoiled little brats never make it easy for me either." The medic grumbled.

"I'm well, my Lady, thank you." Weiss nodded, grimacing as Albus prodded her.

"Stay with me a while before you return to your cohort. There are some things I would like to discuss with you." She said, looking up at the legionnaire.

"As you wish, Lady Schnee." Honestly, as worrying as those words were, Ruby was much too tired to go anywhere. The rest of her cohort had pushed ahead, clearing the battlefield of wounded, seizing captives and silencing the wounded.

"Always with the deference." She mumbled.

"Be still. This will sting." Albus said, bringing forth a needle and thread. His fingers working like an automaton's, he stitched the wound with a practiced precision. Weiss bit her lip, but showed no other outward signs of pain.

"Where is General Ozpin? I must speak with him." Marble spoke up.

"He's begun organizing the camp for tonight."

"And Goodwych?"

"Chasing down the rabble."

"I see. Marble, fetch me a horse from the luggage train. Konrad fell to the enemy."

"A shame. He was a magnificent horse."

"Indeed." Weiss said, gasping as Albus finished his work. He splashed water on the wound from a flask at his hip.

"It's not boiling wine, but it will serve. Your humble medic suggests rest, and abstinence from fool-hardy cavalry charges."

"Humble medic, _ha_! A good joke, Albus." She turned to Ruby. "I apologize for my subordinate's callousness."

Ruby didn't know what to make of the situation. This was the closest she'd been to nobility, and it was all _far_ beyond her understanding. So she nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Two hours later, Weiss brought her before General Ozpin himself. Ruby was bewildered and overwhelmed when informed of this, but the Tribune insisted it be done. She spent a few minutes trying to make the legionary presentable, fretting about the blood that had fixed itself on her chainmail. Ruby did her best to remain motionless as Weiss preened over her.

Eventually, she was given permission to continue. She pushed aside the flap of the tent.

"_Ave_, Ozpin _Legatus_!" She shouted, throwing her arm forward in a traditional roman salute.

The commander's tent had been hastily erected, yet still managed to impose airs of majesty. Slaves and officers milled about inside, setting up his belongings or discussing the day's battle. The shaded interior brought a measure of relief, the air inside cool and refreshing.

General Ozpin himself stood in the center of it all, smiling at Ruby with glowing warmth. He was an older man, with gray and tousled hair. Despite his apparent age, a torch of unquenchable energy burned bright behind his eyes. His armor was ornate and humbling to behold, engraved with the stuff of legends.

"Ave, Honorable Soldier." Ruby's knees went weak at the greeting. She was speaking with the General! How did she end up here? _What's going on?!_

"Rest easy, Soldier. I am sure Tribune Schnee did not bring you before me for punishment." Weiss stepped forward, saluting.

"You are correct, General. Ruby Rose performed her duty today with a rare courage and tenacity."

"Oh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"During the charge, I was pulled from my horse, and beset on all sides by rebels. Acting swiftly, and in spite of the death of her centurion, she took a contingent of legionaries and pressed through the rebels to reach me. Having found me wounded and alone, she escorted me safely back to her cohort."

"Is this true, soldier?" He asked.

"Lady Schnee tells it true, Sir General Ozpin... sir." She mumbled. Inwardly, she cringed. _Watch your tongue Ruby, you're making an ass of yourself! _

"So why did you bring her before me?" Weiss smiled, teeth shining bright in the cool shade of the tent.

"Her comrades are in need of a new Centurion." _No. Impossible! She doesn't mean for me to replace Acheron, does she?_ She swayed, settling herself on Weiss' shoulder. She must have misheard the Tribune. "I know, such rapid promotions are rare, but I feel personally indebted to her." Ozpin smiled a sad smile.

"There are some who would call the promotion itself a punishment."

"Then they are fools." Weiss retorted. Ruby's head swam. Right now, she felt herself agreeing with General Ozpin. She didn't know how to lead! _Gods be good, I just fought my first battle_ _today_!

"And what do you make of this…opportunity, Ms. Rose?"

"I… uh… it's a great honor, of course, General, sir." A dark-skinned slave scuttled behind Ozpin, spreading out a simple wooden stool. He sat, swinging his cape over his shoulder.

"Many thanks, Isaiah." The slave bowed low, and the general's steely gaze returned to Ruby. "You know the formations, right? The commands, the proper responses?"

"I do, sir. The drills remain fresh in my mind." Every legionnaire worth their salt knew them by heart. It would mean death or lashes if they did not.

"And what about giving them?"

"I… know the orders sir. I could give them. I-I think." He gave this some thought, running a hand over a clean-shaven chin.

"If you rescued Lady Schnee as she claims, I think your new-found hesitation stems from modesty." His eyes twinkled. "You stand promoted, Centurion Ruby Rose."

"I…" She fell to her knee, head bowed low. "Many thanks, General Ozpin." _This… this is unheard of! What on earth is this frosted-haired noblewoman thinking?_

"Your comrades will be informed of your promotion shortly. In the meantime, you must select your Optio." Ruby's mind flashed to Yang. "Also, your pay is hereby increased to an annual sum of seventy _aureae_, minus the costs of your new equipment and quartering fees." Had she not been kneeling, Ruby surely would have fallen. _Seventy… SEVENTY AUREAE?!_ That was _sixteen times_ her current pay, and more money that she'd ever seen in her life! _Can't breathe! I can't breathe!_

"G-General, your generosity is overwhelming." She stammered.

"It is expected of me." He gave her a warm smile. "Follow Centurion Primus Pilus Oobleck, he will help you draw up the papers and situate yourself with your new command." A tall, lanky, green-haired officer approached her, a centurion's helm carried in one arm.

"I will. Thank you again. Many thanks and honors to you as well, my Lady." She added, bowing deeply to Weiss. The white-haired woman acknowledged the well wishing with a polite nod.

"Lady Schnee, I must have words with you. Centurion Rose, if you would excuse us?" She jumped to her feet, hurrying to obey, unnerved by her new title.

"O-of course General!" She fled the tent with Centurion Primus Oobleck, desperate to be free of the suffocating environment.

* * *

Weiss watched her go, a small smile on her face. _If it wasn't for her, I'd probably be dead. The years of planning and training discarded like refuse, and nothing to show for it except a youthful corpse. The house of Schnee would have lost its scion, and father would call upon poor Winter to take my place._ She shuddered, promising a sacrifice to Mara for blessing her with Soldier Rose.

"What is it that you wish to discuss, General?" His eyes regarded her, the warmth behind them cooling considerably. _Curses_. He did not answer her directly.

"Would you like some wine?" He asked.

"I… yes, sir. It would do wonders to alleviate the pains of my wound." He nodded.

"Isaiah? The wine, please?" The slave scuttled off to fetch it. Uncorking the skin, he poured some in a small ceramic cup, also provided by the slave. Weiss accepted the offered wine, drinking deep of the red solution. It was sweet and rich.

"Exemplary, sir."

"It is from my manor on the outskirts of Ostia. I tend them myself, you know." Weiss laughed.

"Perhaps your true calling lies not in leading soldiers, but in the growing of grapes." She jested. Ozpin did not smile. _Shit. _

"The reason I wish to speak with you is not my wine, Tribune Schnee. It instead concerns your actions today on the field of battle."

"What of them, sir?"

"They were dangerous and reckless."

"I… you did warn me, sir." She managed, her voice small and childlike.

"So I did. And tell me." His eyes shifted to her wound. "How did they play out?" He filled his own cup, staring into its depths before taking a small sip. Weiss couldn't answer him. "As I thought. You raised valid points, but underestimated the enemy. As a result, you were wounded. Honestly, a cavalry charge, mere weeks before meeting with the gallic auxiliaries…" Weiss fidgeted in her seat, sipping nosily at her wine. Anything to escape the piercing glare he gave her. He sighed. "Do you know what they call me in the Senate?"

"No sir." Her father was the Tribune. She was only here in his place, and the inner machinations of the Curia Julia were distant to her.

"They call me the Schoolmarm, after the Arc boy and yourself took your fathers' places. They see us as an army led by children. They expect little more from us than to die nobly on the frontier. I intend to prove them wrong, of course. I would see us wreathed in laurels. However, that would be difficult for me to accomplish if my brightest officers are throwing their lives away at the slightest hint of glory. Your cold corpse would bring no honor to your family, and no pride to your father. So tell me, what did you see in running down untrained, poorly armed slaves?"

"I-"

"Nothing. You saw nothing. In the future, you will refer to your lessons, not your father's desperation for recognition. Am I clear?"

"I-I…"

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, General." _Damn him_. _Damn him for seeing right through me._

"You were lucky that Soldier Rose possessed such an uncommon courage. Speaking of which, I have one more thing I need to discuss with you."

"Yes, General?"

"Ms. Rose's promotion is quite the leap for her. If you truly want to repay the debt you owe her, I expect you to educate her on the finer points of command." She nearly dropped her cup.

"I'm to _what_ now?"

"Educate her. Sharpen her wits and her resolve. Teach her in months what experience can only do in years. You bestowed this curse upon her, the least you could do is properly prepare her." Desperate not to agitate him further, Weiss bit back a growl. Still, she could not keep annoyance from coloring her retort.

"I am a warrior and a soldier, not a school teacher!"

"No more than I am a schoolmarm." He replied, wearing a small smile. "But you will do it all the same. " Deflating, Weiss nodded in grim acceptance.

"Yes, Sir."

"Very good. I shall have Bartholomew show Ruby to your tent tonight. You are dismissed." Standing and saluting, she obeyed without question, marching out of the tent.

* * *

Ozpin watched her go, drinking deep of his homegrown wine. _She will serve me well, if she learns to curb her foolish and reckless demeanor. Damn her father to the lowest pit of Tartarus! Filling such a promising young woman's head with such dangerous rhetoric._ He leaned back in his stool, awaiting his next visitor. She should be along shortly.

_Honor and pride are illusions, something the posh Schnee bastard can't see from his seat on the Senate. No, only victory matters. In the end, that is all that remains._

The tent flap opened, revealing the bloodstained and flagged form of Glynda Goodwych. Her golden greaves were awash in gore, her similarly bloodied sword arm resting on the hilt of her gladius.

"_Ave, Ozpin Legatus_!"

"_Salve_, friend Goodwych." Formality was something he detested between himself and his lieutenant. "Come, be seated." Pivoting, he turned to his slaves. "Would you fetch us some refreshments? I think more wine would suit us wonderfully." They obeyed, as slaves do, bowing deeply. With a smile, he poured his friend and second-in-command a tall cup of wine.

She did not drink at first, still breathing deep from sheer exertion. The slaves returned, placing a foldable table between them. Then, lightening quick, her hand snatched the cup from his hand. She drank greedily, trails of red spilling over her lips and falling to splatter on her armor.

"I see you have acquired a great thirst, Glynda." She slammed the cup on the table.

"Be quiet. You were the one who ordered me to pursue them."

"And how did that go?"

"Poorly." She spat. "More wine." He poured it for her, a portrait of hospitality. She slurped at it before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I lost a few men. These slaves were an awfully tenacious bunch."  
"Has the count been done?" She nodded.

"I've just received it from Tribune Port."

"And?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Of the eight-thousand rebels, near five thousand lie dead. Another thousand are wounded, five hundred re-enslaved by victorious soldiers, and the rest have surrendered to the Legion." Isaiah placed a plate of dates between them. Ozpin plucked one from its place, relishing the flavor of the sweet fruit. Glynda partook as well, eating in a manner far beneath her station. Chuckling, he could not blame her. _Killing is difficult, hungry work._

"Still your insipid laughter." She snapped. "You know what must be done." Regretfully, yes, he did. He told her as much.

"Then do it." He sighed. Summoning his adjutant, he gave the crucifixion order. We _Romans will not be denied our justice_, he thought... however much it appalled him. Her breathing slowed, and she dabbed at her brow with a sweat-stained sleeve. "And what now?"

"Today, we rest. I have begun organizing construction of the camp."

"You know what I mean. We're a month outside Massalia, and the slaves are defeated. We press north. But what then?"

"Have you forgotten the Auxiliaries? They lie ahead, after a few weeks' march. We'll collect them, and make our way to Germania."

"So that's it then? Our legacy will be nothing more than mere border patrol?" Ozpin leaned forward, within whispering range.

"Not entirely. Legio III Italica and Legio I Germanica report dark forces massing beyond the Rhine." Glynda huffed.

"Ha! The day I see those barbarous cretins cross that river is the day Rome falls." He did not laugh at her jest, and his serious, dour visage struck a growing chord of fear in Glynda.

"Yes. That's precisely right."

* * *

Drums sounded in the forest. Low and steady, they rose into the black of night, constant, seething, purposeful. Chanting accompanied them, shrill and hewn from ragged throats. The towering trees swallowed their song, leaves broad and full. Night fires roared, crackling orange pits of flame that spat sparks high into the air.

_Thoom_, the drums cried. _Thoom_.

As the needle worked on her flesh, she relished the soft agony, savoring the little-deaths of ink and blood. The final addition to the storied tapestry that was her painted flesh. Blue fire consumed her, colored her in shifting blue patterns that wound and spiraled around her naked form. The time was nearly at hand. She watched the tribute below her, grinning broadly as he clashed with the ursa.

Grunting, he dove to avoid the mauling claws. He slashed at its arm, drawing forth a spurt of ichor. The grimm roared, slamming its paws against the earth. Even atop her wooden throne, she felt the creature's resonant power.

It howled, and the tribute answered in kind, bursting forward. A swipe threatened to tear his head from his shoulders, but he stood his ground, knocking the creature's strike away with the flat of his shield. Spinning to avoid the follow up attack, he leaped into the air, bringing his heel into its eye. It roared.

Smiling now, the tribute hacked away at the creature's neck, each stroke of his ax biting deeper and deeper into the black-furred form. Finally, with a great cry, he severed its head. Blood washed over him, soaking the walled arena with the foul scent of grimm.

_Thoom_, the drums cried. _Thoom_.

Driving his ax into the forest floor, he hoisted the ursa's head, bellowing. It was done. The chanting of her faithful ceased, but the drums continued their thundering song.

"Well done." She called to him. "Your struggle has revealed much. The omens are good!" Standing to address her people, she cried out to the assorted tribes. "The time for war draws near! Across the river Rhine, we shall find our destiny among the Romans, and tear it from their dead hands!" A roar of approval. "Soon… we march!" Hooting war-cries echoed into the night, carried upon thousands of throats.

The priest behind her nodded, satisfied with his work. The skin was red and raw, but it would heal in a few days. Beaming, Cinder added her voice to her people's. Row upon row of warriors, cages upon cages of grimm, all in thrall of her power and audacity. Taking an orange powder in her hand, she hurled it into the sky, where it ignited, showering her army in a torrent of sparks and flame. Her legions bowed low, in awe of the power of this new-found 'dust'. _Soon, Rome will fall. _A wide, cruel smile.

_Thoom_, the drums cried. _Thoom_.

* * *

**A/N: Uh-oh. Well? What did you think? You have to tell me! Without reviews, I can't continue this story, however much I want to!**

**_Glossary of Terms_: (Note, terms will not be repeated between chapters)**

**Aureus (pl, Aureae) A gold coin, the 'standard' of Roman currency, from which all other Roman coinage derive their value, despite the commonality of the denarii. Worth about $366 in modern money.**

**Ave: Latin for "Hail" Used as a greeting for one's superiors or public officials. Ozpin uses it to his inferior as a sign of respect.**

**Centurion Primus Pilus: Centurion in charge of all other Centurions. Just below the Tribunes in terms or rank.**

**Curia Julia****: The Senate House in Ancient Rome, where day-to-day meetings of the Senate were held. It was commissioned by Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, finished in 29 BCE by Augustus, and survives to this day. **

**Massalia: Capitol of the southernmost region of Gaul, the Roman province of Gallia Narobonensis. The story begins a month after leaving it, and it served as a common stop on one of the only stable routes around the Alps. This city still exists as the french city of Marseilles.**

**Milites: Lowest ranked soldier in the Roman Legions. Can be translated as 'soldier', and is the equivalent of the modern day Private.**

**Legatus: General of the Roman Legion.**

**Salve: (pl, Salvete) Latin for "Health", used as an informal greeting between friends or family. Really just like saying 'hello'!**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

_**A NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION: S**_**hould have put this in last chapter. It doesn't really matter, but if you want to be extra pretentious while reading this fic, note that for all the historical terms, there are no soft c's. In latin, all c's are pronounced as hard k's (i.e. Centurion - "Ken-turi-on", Caesar - "Kai-sahr"). Also, all v's are pronounced as w's. So 'Ave' and 'Salve' are "Ah-way" and "Sahl-way". Fun little fact. :)**

**Ruby's Promotion: Normally, she would receive an Oak Leaf crown for saving the life of a fellow citizen, but as you'll come to learn, Weiss ****detests impracticality or showy rewards. Promotions of this magnitude were indeed rare (if not absent entirely), but were possible. I wrote this as a parallel to both Ruby being accepted into Beacon, and being made the leader of her team. She's got a lot of responsibility on her shoulders now!**

**Legionary Punishments: Noted by Ruby in the first part of this chapter. They were extraordinarily cruel, and extremely harsh. The Legions were tolerant of very little.**

**Cinder's Tattoos: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one! Did Germanic tribes practice tattoos? Hell if I know. I'm just going off my Rome Total War 2 knowledge, which seems to point towards 'yes'.**

**Dust: Debated about putting it in here. It'll have its uses, but for now, no hints as to how it will play into the story.**

**Use of the word 'Tartarus': Again, like Hades, frequently used by Romans to denote the underworld or afterlife. ****  
**

**Ozpin practicing Crucifixion: Welcome to Roman times. History tends to glorify them a bit, but we sometimes forget that they were total dicks. Ozpin doesn't like it (as I tried to convey) but would have too much to answer for if he did not give the order.**

**Review Replies: Just a reminder, if you leave a review, I will reply here!**

**Via: Thanks! I hope you liked this chapter!**

**SovietSniper92: Thanks so much! I agree with you, while pairings will eventually appear here, they're not the focus of the story. I'm a big fan of Rome, and Rome Total War 2 (even though I'm a bigger fan of the original!) so it's good to see there's some common ground.**

**The Walrus of Eden: Wow, thanks for the kind words! You rock! And doubly thank you for the correction... I'm so embarrassed!**

**Guest: You got me! haha**

**metimesthree: Wow, I'm blushing! You're too kind! And it's awesome to see you took my advice and looked up the poem! Your description of it was very accuracte! It certainly made me smile. :D**

**Thanks again for your reviews! Please leave more! I love them so much!**

**Ave Imperator!**


	3. One Quiet Night

**A/N: Salvete, amici! (Hello, friends!)**

**And we're back! Getting some different perspectives this time (Yang, Blake, and Jaune). Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter III: One Quiet Night**

Yang yawned. Today's battle had been exhausting, and she'd only managed a few hours of sleep last night. Her new slave stood silently before her, hands tied in rough-hewn hemp. Red-stained bandages bound her wounds tight, from Yang's own medical equipment. Eyes downcast, she followed her new master to the paymaster's tent.

"Yeah, normally, I'd get us some well-deserved wine and get on with a nap, but I gotta get you registered. Sorry about this."

Blake said nothing. _I don't blame her_. _It's amazing she's even standing. I couldn't even try to imagine myself in her place right now_. Many of her comrades stood around them, all queuing to receive their new tattoos. _I'm saving her_. Yang reminded herself. _No one deserves crucifixion._

"So, care to tell me why you were in that battle?"

Blake said nothing.

"Really? Nothing?"

"You are my master. Order me to speak." She said icily. Yang huffed. She'd managed to provoke a response, but not the one she'd hoped.

"That's no fun." The line shifted forward. "That's cheating." Blake's ears turned, flattening against her long black hair.

"Is this just some game to you then?" Yang shrugged. She hadn't even gotten to take her armor off yet, and her shoulders ached. The chainmail was an annoyance as well, straining tight against her ample chest.

"If I forced you, you'd probably just lie to me." Blake mulled that over, falling silent once more. Yang appraised her new slave for what must have been the sixth time in the past two hours. She was quiet, (who wouldn't be, after a slaughter like that?), but had a keenness to her that was hard to puzzle out. Her yellow eyes constantly shifted and darted, taking in as much information as possible. _Either she's plotting, or just naturally curious._

They finally arrived at the makeshift desk that had been set up in front of the paymaster's tent. Three officials sat behind it, one with a heavy ledger, one who counted coins, and one that bore a ratty needle. Legionary guards stood at attention behind them, clearly bored and just as tired as Yang. The woman with the ledger spoke first.

"I've been instructed to inform you that the Legion is purchasing captives for the standard bonus of twenty denarii. Do you accept?" Yang shook her head.

"I'm holding onto this one."

"Very well. Her upkeep will be four denarii a month, to be deducted from your monthly salary. Is this acceptable?"

"It is." _A small expense, compared to the benefits of having a handy slave around._

"Noted. Name, rank, centuria and cohort?"

"Milites Yang. Fourth Centuria, Second Cohort." She made a few marks in her tome.

"Noted. If you would?" Yang nodded. With a mumbled apology, she pulled at the collar of Blake's tunic, revealing scarred and brutalized skin. Whoever her previous owner had been, they must have been a remarkably cruel master to subject their slaves to such a large brand. At least they did not put it on her forehead, as was the wont of many slave-owners.

"Put it… here." She said, pointing to a patch of clean skin at the base of Blake's neck. The burly man with the needle nodded, leaning forward to apply the tattoo. Yang held her firmly as the man worked, his needle pumping up and down. No sound escaped Blake; no tears came to her eyes.

_She's remarkably strong…_ Yang mused. It took him a minute to complete his task, such was his speed.

Finished, the man nodded at Yang.

"Next!" The woman called. Pulling gently at Blake's tethers, she strode off to find Fourth Centuria. The tattoo was weeping blood, roughly etched in raw, red skin. Yang couldn't read most of the marks, but she did recognize the symbols that made up her name. Blake was hers. Drawing her pugio, Yang slit the ropes that bound her hands, freeing her. She stared at her hands for a time.

"Alright, finally! Bet that feels good. Now let's go find Ruby! Hopefully the poor girl didn't agitate that officer too badly." Blake didn't say anything. When they returned to the Fourth Centuria, Yang's comrades were hard at work preparing the tent. There was no sign of Ruby, which was deeply worrying. _She didn't mouth off at the woman, did she? _

"Jupiter's cock!" She spat. Ruby was kind and levelheaded, but had an unpredictable streak as well. Blake's eyes turned to her.

"My sister's not here. Ah, she better not have gotten into trouble!"

"You… have a sister?" Yang sighed.

"I did this morning, but Mara protect her, I don't know if I will by the end of the night." Blake's ears twitched, intrigued. Despite her growing worry, Yang found it incredibly cute. "She might have gotten into trouble with the officers." The faunus nodded. After another few minutes of aimless wandering, she found the Fourth Centuria.

"Salvete!" She cried, greeting her _contuburinum._

"Salve!" They replied. Her _decanus_, Cardin Winchester, noticed her companion.

"And who is this?" He asked, raising a thick eyebrow. It made Yang squirm. Cardin was a huge brute of a man, with short brown hair and a temper to match.

"Everyone, this is Blake. She's my slave, so she'll be helping us out for the next few years." Blake held her head high, gazing upon the legionnaires as if they were no more than worms in the dirt. "Oh, and if any of you goat-fuckers put your grubby hands on her, I'll break 'em." A few of her comrades shuddered. Yang had been infamous during training for her willingness to face opponents unarmed… and win. _Easily_.

"Hey, any of you guys see Ruby?" A few shrugs.

"Not since the battle." Dove said. Yang sighed. Hopefully, she'd find out soon.

"Oh, how's Sky by the way?" He'd suffered a nasty wound. Cardin's eyes narrowed, still appraising Blake.

"With the medic. He'll live, as long as he avoids infection."

"Good." She started unbuckling her armor, desperate to be free of the weight. As always, the lower left strap of her lorica hamata was giving her trouble. "Blake, could you help me with my armor? These guys need a hand with the tent. I always have trouble with these lower straps," she explained, pointing at the offending leather.

Deft hands pulled at the straps, finally freeing Yang from the press of her armor.

"Whew! Thanks!" Air, sweet air! A loud sigh escaped her as she enjoyed her chest's newly-found freedom. "Take a rest, Blake." She said, throwing a wink at the faunus girl. "Those cuts looked pretty bad." She remained silent, carefully placing the leather and mail on the ground.

* * *

Dusk fell upon the Roman camp, the orange ball of flame sinking behind the distant tree line. Jaune watched it go, thoughts weighing like an anvil upon his mind. Today was the first day he saw battle, tasted the horrors of war. It was assuredly nothing compared the civil war that had ripped Rome apart a decade ago, but still, he could not help but reflect.

With a shout, he had followed Weiss into battle, cutting down slaves left, right, and center. She had been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And his loyalty had been repaid with scorching vitriol. His breath left him, slow and steady.

"Are you well, Sir?" He jumped, startled by the sudden voice.

"Oh! Uh, salve, Pyrrha." She tipped her head in acknowledgement, polite as could be. Clad in a fine toga, she had removed her armor a scant few hours ago. However, her copper battle-headdress remained, a finely-wrought circlet that held several green stones. Red hair spilled out from underneath it, impossibly rich and luxuriant.

"Good evening, Lord Arc. What troubles you so?" He turned to face her, a lying smile on his face.

"Not much. Thought I'd keep watch over the camp." He said, cringing at the terrible lie. She smiled.

"I know a lie when I see one, Roman." She said playfully. Jaune laughed. Ever since his father hired the veteran a few months back, he had enjoyed her company immensely. The Arc patriarch had sent her off with him, claiming her expertise and raw skill could be a useful asset to his untested son. Tales of her exploits with the famed Silvershield Company were well regarded abroad, but Jaune heard not a word of them before meeting her in his atrium. However fearsome her reputation, Pyrrha turned out to be an unflinchingly kind and loyal companion. Her face was always lit with a radiant smile, eagerness and enthusiasm evident in every gesture, every grin.

"Well, when I seek an expert on lies, I'll find a greek." He shot back. She giggled, a sound that magicked away the worst of Jaune's pains. "No training tonight?" He asked, earning another smile.

"Not for today. Our gallant charge was training enough." _True_, Jaune thought. They'd carried the day for the Legio Pharos, but it had been a dangerous and exhaustive venture. "It was two years ago the last time I rode out like that. Fought bandits on the banks of the Danube." She said, a hint of wistfulness creeping into her voice.

"Two years ago? You were sixteen when you first rode out like that?" He asked, astounded.

"Well…" She played with her toga, bashful and modest. "The first time I sallied forth, I was thirteen."

"Wow, that's… you're incredible!" She reddened. _Probably the cold._ _She's from Epirus, the local clime must be frigid for her_! _It is summer, sure, but still!_

"You are too kind!" She said, laughing. Jaune grinned too, noticing her eyes were the most radiant green he'd ever seen. "But the fact remains that you are avoiding my question." Juane swallowed. "As your assistant and bodyguard, allow me to help with whatever ails you."

"Well, if you will remain insistent…"

"I shall." Jaune sighed.

"Today… today was the first time I saw battle." He scoffed, embarrassed by his confession to the accomplished warrior. "Unlike you, I did not have the fortune to be born under a warrior's star. I took many lives today. And I went against General Ozpin's advice… all at the behest of Weiss Schnee." He turned to Pyrrha, who was now watching him intently. "Why? Why did I follow her? What would father say? Would he be proud I routed the rebels, or ashamed I was so reckless?"

"Worry not about what your father thinks. He is many miles away, keeping watch over the Senate and your sisters."

"And what do you think, Pyrrha?" She beamed.

"You were given the option to remain idle, yet you acted. In Epirus, one would consider that noble, and so would I."

"Thank you." He said, reddening from the praise. Receiving any at all was still new to the young officer.

"Of course, sir. As for why you followed Tribune Schnee…" Pyrrha said, turning away from him as her smile faded away. "You fancy her, do you not?" The question caught him off guard.

"I… yes. I think so, at least."

"You did not want to see her come to harm?" Jaune shook his head. Pyrrha was not just an exemplary warrior, but keenly perceptive as well. She let loose a long sigh, and examined the grass between her toes.

"I'm afraid I cannot assist you in that matter, sir. I've had few opportunities to make friends and acquaintances, much less… lovers." Her face flushed a vivid red that matched her hair. "Again, my apologies." Jaune laughed

"Then, in that at least, we are equals. And Pyrrha, enough apologizing! I don't think repairing matters of the heart are included in your contract!" He grinned. "I'll deal with Lady Schnee in my own time. But for now, we should join General Ozpin in his tent. I heard he is hosting a small feast to celebrate our victory." He offered her his arm. "Would you care to join me?" Her eyes went wide from shock.

"I… yes. My pleasure, sir."

"Oh, and one more thing… I don't think I can have you calling me 'sir' after I've confided so much in you. Please, just… call me Jaune. Is that acceptable?" She slipped an olive-skinned arm into his, her smile returning in full force.

"I would like nothing better."

* * *

Ruby was exhausted. Today had been one of the most strenuous days she'd had since training began. She'd slaughtered almost a dozen rebels, been promoted three times out of turn, and was forced to keep up with Centurion Primus Oobleck's giant, fleeting steps for the rest of the day. How a man moved so fast for so long in so much armor was completely beyond her.

He'd given her a new set of mail, a large crimson cape, steel greaves, a whistle, and a centurion's sideways-plumed helmet. After spending her entire time in the Legion following said helmet, holding one in her hands -that was _hers_\- felt almost dreamlike.

"Centurion Rose!" She gave a high-pitched squeal of alarm. Oobleck had a habit of vanishing, then reappearing like a specter next to her ear… usually yelling.

"What is it, sir?"

"I've been instructed to take you to Lady Schnee's tent after collecting your equipment! If you would follow me, please." He fled, leaving Ruby behind in one of the many equipment tents.

"Wait, sir!" She cried, scooping up her new stuff and hurrying after him. _Gods,_ she mused, nearly tripping over her feet,_ he is surely a living dynamo_. After a few minutes running after her new superior, they came to the tribune's tent.

A fire blazed outside it, beating back the dusk's orange glow and carrying the scent of roasting pork to her nostrils. The last thing she'd eaten was a mere bite of bread this morning… she'd been far too nervous to eat anything else. Her forgotten hunger returned to her at once, almost punching her in the stomach with its sheer force.

"Lady Schnee!" Oobleck bellowed. "I have brought you Centurion Rose!"

"Very well!" The woman cried from within her tent. "You are dismissed!" Oobleck rounded on Ruby.

"It's been a pleasure, Centurion Rose. We will no doubt grow more acquainted in the coming years!" He sprinted off to some unknowable task. Just watching him made her feel drained. Sweeping the tent flap aside, she bowed low.

"You sought me, Lady Schnee?" The interior was warm and inviting. Weiss sat upon a stool , wiping down a curved knife. Blood soaked her rough-spun tunic and splashed her arms in full, gory strokes. A large shrine to Mara sat behind her. Under a striking icon of the goddess lay a small golden bowl, surrounded by candles and assorted herbs. Within it sat a boar's heart, still weeping lifeblood.

"Forgive me for my disheveled state. I've recently made a sacrifice."

"Of course, my Lady. Celebrating today's victory?" The tribune's face twitched.

"Something else, Centurion Rose." That title again. Then, to make awkward matters worse, Ruby's stomach gave a violent roar, protesting her refusal to attend its needs. Weiss stared at her for a second before her face split into a wide smile. "You must be famished. Marble! Where are you? Bring me a washbowl!"

Her adjutant stumbled into the tent, carrying a large wooden bowl. Water sloshed over the edges as he rushed forward to aid his Lady.

"We shall feast soon." She nodded at the washbowl. You first, Centurion." Ruby nodded her thanks, dipping her hands into the cool liquid. She washed the dried dirt and blood from her hands, scrubbing away the sweat and detritus of battle.

Weiss washed as well, ladling great splashes of water over herself as she rid herself of the sacrifice's ichor. Great streams of gore washed down her arms and face. She rinsed her hair as well, cleansing her snow-white hair of any impurities. Red water filled the bowl as the tribune dried herself with a linen rag.

"Do you know why you are here, Centurion Rose?"

"No, my Lady."

"First," Weiss said, "No more of this 'my Lady' nonsense. It irritates me."

"Yes, my Lady." Ruby cringed. She put forth a valiant effort to avoid the tribune's annoyed glare.

"It is unbecoming of a Centurion to bow and scrape like a common dog. You will address me as Tribune Schnee, or Ma'am. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my… ma'am." Ruby finished, relieved she'd caught herself in time. The tent flap opened again, bringing in a burst of chill night air that bore the scent of roasted pork. It took every ounce of willpower not to salivate.

"Marble, could you have the slaves prepare us a table?" He saluted, obeying without a word. Weiss sighed as two of her slaves went to work, placing down tables, dishes, and simple wooden couches. "You are here because Ozpin demanded you be. I am to give you instruction and lessons that will improve your performance as an officer."

"That is sound advice… ma'am." Weiss sat on the couch provided for her. "I am unlearned in many matters of war."

"We will see." Ruby fingers worked, made busy by unsettled nerves.

"Ma'am? A question?"

"Speak."

"Um… this is your first time in the legions as well, is it not? Why would General Ozpin have me learn under you?" Instead of the expected scowl, the tribune gave her a wide grin.

"A fair point. In fact," she conceded, "a rather intelligent question. Perhaps this will not prove as troublesome as I first thought."

"I'll do my best, ma'am."

"I expect nothing less." The table was finally set. Slaves set roasted, steaming pork upon wooden dishes, with bowls filled with courses of fruits and light grains. "But first, we eat." She smiled. "I expect you're hungry." Ruby nodded vigorously. "Thank Mara for the meal. It is her boar we sacrificed."

She obeyed, raising her eyes to the canvas ceiling. With a whispered prayer, she thanked Weiss and Mara for allowing her such a victory today, and the meat placed before her. The tribune looked at her expectantly.

"The couch, Centurion." _Oh, right! Damn it!_ All of the meals Ruby ate at home were short and simple affairs, where her father and sister would spoon up whatever bread and vegetables they could scrape together. She'd heard stories of lavish dinner parties, where guests would lay upon couches and feast upon course after course of-

"Centurion Rose?" _Caught stalling_!

"Uh…" She reclined on the couch provided to her by a thracian slave, not certain where to put her arms. Her hesitation didn't hinder her too much, as she was soon gorging herself on the succulent meat. It may have been her imagination, but she could have sworn Weiss was suppressing a giggle. She couldn't tell, she was too busy eating. Her eyes closed, savoring the tastes that played against her tongue.

The tribune herself ate daintily, each gesture practiced and fluid.

"So, Centurion, have you read the Iliad?"

"I have… not, ma'am." Ruby said between mouthfuls.

"The histories then? Anabasis, The Rise of Alexander, Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic War?" Ruby shook her head, mouth full of pork. "What of the recent Aenead?"

"I haven't, ma'am. I… um…" She paused, trying not to make eye contact. "I'm unable to read."

"Oh." Weiss' head sank low, a quiet sigh escaping her. "Well, it appears we have a long way to go." She took a bite of meat, plucking it from between her fingers. "A very long way to go."

"My apologies. Before the Legio Pharus, I was a farmer, living on the outskirts of Rome. Education was a luxury my father could not afford." Weiss waved her hand, dismissing her apology.

"It simply means we will start with more practical lessons. Though, it would have been much easier if you were literate." Ruby grinned in uneasy embarrassment, rubbing the back of her head as her cheeks flushed a rosy red.

"Again, my apologies, ma'am." Weiss nodded, now fully resigned to her duty.

"You are in good hands, Centurion Rose. I have been raised from a very young age to be a warrior. I am a Daughter of Mara, and will convey the knowledge such a title implies upon you." Ruby paled. Only a few women, born strong of heart and mind could earn the epithet 'Daughter of Mara' from the priestesses that resided within the temple at the heart of Rome. It was an honor, gifted to those strong enough to bear witness to countless horrific trials. _Perhaps it was been one of those trials that left that scar across her eye_. "You have my solemn word. On my honor, I will forge you into a fearsome and mighty officer. The first step of course, is discipline…"

* * *

Blake did not know what to make of her new master. On one hand, she had bound and captured her, pressing the young faunus girl once again into servitude and slavery. On the other, she was the friendliest, most gregarious person she had ever met in her life. Even now, she was handing her a skin of wine, leftovers of the celebration held across the Legio Pharus. Watch fires burned on the edge of the Legion's camp, but the Fourth Centuria sat well within the center of camp, enjoying a few petty luxuries after their success in the field.

"For the pain." Yang said with a sad smile, pointing at the small of her neck. Oh right. The skin on her back burned and wept, worn ragged by the abuse of the needle-man. In the end, it was yet another marking, yet another indication that she was just a piece of property. Taking the wine, she drank deep. It was vinegary and bitter. The vintages she had tasted at her master's villa in Lugdunum were much sweeter, but as she appraised her new master, she could not help but prefer the cheaper swill. _Why?_

Yang had saved her from the horrors of crucifixion. _Why did she go out of her way to save me?_ It was not out of the goodness of her heart; Blake was not a naïve child. So then, what was it? _What possessed this flaxen-haired beauty to save my life_? _And furthermore, why did I bow low?_ _Why subjugate myself further?_ _I should have made her kill me. _Blake thought, scowling.

_Here I sit, drinking wine with the very men who butchered my brothers, and will crucify the rest._ It disgusted her, sending her stomach into a brutal boil. _I wonder what happened to Adam_. _Probably nothing good_. She spat. The dark-skinned faunus had taken her under his wing, showed her how to be free. Now he was surely dead, just one more corpse among thousands. The thought darkened her heart. More wine.

"How's it taste?"

"It sickens me." Yang nudged her, beaming.

"Then it's good wine. All yours." And for that matter, her new master had asked only one thing of her: undo a single strap of her armor.

"Why are you wasting all the wine on a slave?" The leader asked. He was thickset man, with wide shoulders and a hard stare.

"Go chew on a sponge, Cardin. 'S my wine, and I'll do what I want with it." Yang spat, cheeks flushed red from drunkenness. There she went again. Defending her, protecting her. Blake sighed, sitting back on the grass. _Escape isn't possible just yet._ _I can follow the Legion for awhile, then possibly slip away once we're free of Gallia Narbonesis. Maybe I can make it back home…_ The thought was a reassuring one, stilling her mind as she drank with an enemy that was desperate to make a friend of her.

The cool metal of her finger knife sat against her thigh, thirsting for Roman blood. She did not know what to make of her new master, but soon enough, that question would be irrelevant.

* * *

**A/N: I'm having a total blast with this story. Hope you are too! How'd you like the chapter? Please, let me know! Without reviews, I can't continue the story. :( I have some really fun stuff too! Like a side pairing I haven't seen once in the RWBY fandom (which is like finding a pink unicorn that is also an astronaut)**

**Don't worry though, pairings come second to the real focus of this story: historical badassery! (However, fair warning, lemons will be a thing at some point!)**

**Random thought, I really dig Jaune and Pyrrha's conversation. It started off a little shaky, but I'm liking it now, after multiple edits.**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**contuburinum****: The "squad" of the Roman Legions. Comprised of eight soldiers who shared a tent.**

**decanus****: The 'leader' of the contuburinum. Not really their superior, just in charge of setting up the tent. Held virtually no power.**

**denarii****: Silver coin used throughout Roman history. Worth (vaguely) about $20-$40 in modern money, and was a full day's pay for a legionary.**

**lorica hamata:**** The actual latin name for the chainmail armor worn by legionaries of the republican and early empire eras. Note: When most people think of roman soldiers, they picture the _lorica segmentata_, armor which was not introduced until around 100 AD.**

**Lugdunum: A very large city in Roman Gaul. Founded thirty-one years ago at the time of this story.**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Tattooing Slaves: Along with brands, this was a common practice to mark slaves. It was most often done on the foreheard, where the slave could not hide it. Yang is a kinder soul, and spares Blake such a fate.**

**Yang possessing bandages: While some legionnaires were trained medics, and others trained surgeons, all legionaries carried a satchel full of bandages and other misc. medical equipment. **

**_"_Go Chew on a Sponge": Romans did not use toilet paper. Instead, they speared a sponge on a stick, and dipped it in cold water. Yang is telling Cardin to chew on toilet paper... except the sponges were always _shared_. Icky.**

**Danube River: I was worried the river had a different, latin name, but turns out it was named by the Romans!**

**Review Replies:**

**ocomfv: Thanks so much! Hope you enjoyed the snippet of her perspective! :D**

**metimesthree: I have a _lot_ of cool shit planned out. I hope you like it!**

**SovietSniper92: As always, thanks so much for your in-depth reviews! I hope you liked the new perspectives! I wanted to get them in earlier, but there wasn't a good place to do it without bloating the chapter. Don't worry, nothing will be out of place for the times. It won't reach Blood Rose levels of fucked up, and it won't be sunshine and rainbows like canon RWBY. Thanks so much for your kind words!**

**Via: Wow, that's pretty much exactly what I was going for. I'm glad you picked up on it! I too am enjoying Weiss. In canon, she's just kinda bitchy and uptight, but the AU gives her 'tude some context that I really enjoy writing.**

**CommadantGreve: Glad you like! Hope you're learning something too! haha**

**Thanks again for the reveiws, guys! Keep 'em coming, more reviews = a more frequently updated story. And if your favorite character hasn't arrived yet, don't worry, they'll be here soon enough! Hell, I just wrote my favorite introduction so far... but that's not for a few more chapters! ;)**

**Next Chapter: _A brief and grisly reunion..._**


	4. Under the Gaze of the Damned

**A/N: Salvete! (Hello, all!) **

**Another chapter of my Roman AU! Updates will be slowing down tremendously here since school is winding up, but I'll do my best to keep releasing chapters. I'm loving this story too much to just let it wither away!**

**With that said, here's "_Why Romans were assholes: The Chapter_"**

**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter IV: Under the Gaze of the Damned**

Ruby trudged back to the Fourth Centuria exhausted, and her head set in a maddening spin. Weiss had filled her head with all sorts of lessons, the most complicating of which were letters. Frightful and nebulous things they were. However, the tribune insisted she learn, so she gave it her most valiant effort.

The thought of returning to her Centuria wore heavily upon her mind. Her comrades and friends were all subordinates now, even her sister. What she'd done on the battlefield had been a moment of desperation-fueled insanity. _By all rights, I should have been butchered._ _But now, I am a leader_. She sighed. _I have to see Yang_.

Within a few minutes, she reached the Fourth Centuria… _her_ centuria. They were drinking wine around a large night fire, thanking the gods for their victory. Supply had even rationed them a bit of oil to go with their bread. As one of the cohorts that saw the thickest fighting, they'd been spared the duty of nightly camp preparations and crucifying the captured slaves. Ruby shivered. _Thank the gods I was spared that duty._

Her sister was the loudest of all, clapping her friends on the back as she drank deep of cheap wine.

"Yang." She hissed "_Yang_." Her golden-haired sister turned around, shock spreading her eyes open wide.

"Ruby?" Ruby put a finger on her lips.

"Shhhh…" She beckoned her over. Yang excused herself, and tapped the shoulder of a faunus girl that was sitting next to her. They approached Ruby, who avoided the gazes of Yang's contuburnium.

"Ruby! You're alive!" Yang enveloped her with an all-encompassing embrace, nearly choking the life from her little sister.

"Yang… too tight!"

"Oh, right! Sorry!" She let go, still beaming. Looking over her sister, her eyes widened in fear. "What are you doing in centurion armor? Do you _want_ to get flogged?" Ruby shifted her weight, rubbing the back of her head.

"Uh… It's mine."

"That's not funny." Ruby wasn't laughing.

"Gods. You're serious."

"May Jupiter strike me down if I lie." She brought forth her new whistle, the polished wood shining bright in the myriad fires. Yang gaped at it. Then, she let out a squeal, once again swallowing her sister in a bone-crushing hug. Ruby soared into the air, fighting desperately to regain control.

"Ruby! I'm so proud of you!"

"Yang… lungs… crushing!" She managed. Finally, Yang set her down, where her eyes met the faunus'.

"Um… who's your friend?"

"Oh, foolish me! Ruby, this is Blake, my new slave. Blake, this is my sister, Centurion Ruby Rose." She slammed a fist across her heart, beaming. Ruby flushed.

"Come on, Yang, you don't have to do that." Blake's eyes scoured them. Ruby gave her a little wave. "Salve, Blake."

"Salve." She replied.

"She doesn't talk much, does she?" Ruby whispered. Yang shook her head.

"I've been trying all day. Give it some time."

"Look, Yang, the reason I needed to speak with you alone…" She took a deep breath. "I need an Optio. I need you at my side. Plus, I'm not sure how good I'll be at running the Centuria, and-" Yang punched her on the shoulder.

"Ah, Ruby, you'll be fine. Not that I won't accept of course! Together, we'll make the Fourth Centuria feared among the Legion!" Her enthusiasm was infectious. With her smile, Ruby felt that she could tackle the task before her.

"Alright, I'm glad to hear it. I'll wake you up early to get your new gear. I'll announce my promotion in the morning before we march." Yang nodded.

"Um… you got a raise too, right?" Ruby's response was a tired smile. Yang laughed, clapping her hands in glee.

"Gods, if Dad could see us now! His daughters, officers in the Legion! Enough talk for now, come eat!"

"I'll pass. Tribune Schnee treated me to the fruits of her sacrifice." Her sister shrugged.

"Fine by me! Blake and I will enjoy the rest of the party. See you tomorrow!" Yang slung her arm around her slave, steering themselves back to the fire. Ruby watched her go, heart swelling.

_At least I'll always have Yang. Wonder why she took a slave…_

* * *

After they'd collected Yang's gear the following morning, it was time to rouse the Fourth Centuria. Ruby's nerves steeled, Yang gave her a nod, and she blew her whistle, signaling the start of the day. As the sun rose over the distant shaded tree line, they stumbled out of their tents, bleary-eyed and blinking. Yang stalked up and down the row of tents, hurrying along the stragglers and threatening the complainers with her _hastile_.

"Yang, what the fuck are you doing in that get-up?" Dove hissed. "If someone sees you, you're gonna get flogged to death!"

"My sister has an announcement to make." She replied in a low growl. Soon enough, the Fourth Centuria's heads turned to find Ruby Rose standing before them, garbed in a red centurion's cloak and a resolute look on her face. Under her arms was a centurion's horsehair plume helmet.

"Attention, Fourth Centuria! After the death of Centurion Acheron, General Ozpin has decreed that I shall take his place!" This sent whispers flying throughout the assembled soldiers. Ruby took a deep breath. "I will have _silence_!" Their heads turned to face her, shock ruling them to a man. Ruby couldn't blame them. Only a few hours ago, she had been their equal. She hefted the piece of parchment Oobleck had given her. "I expect total obedience and discipline within my Centuria, and anything less will be punished in a due manner. Now… Fourth Centuria… ATTEN-_SHUN_!"

"AYE!" They bellowed, snapping their heels together. Not nearly fast enough, not nearly as smartly as she'd hoped, but good enough for her first order. A sigh of relief was struggling to escape her, but she couldn't give it wind just yet.

"Prepare to march within the hour! Dis-_missed_!" She cried. They were happy to obey, dispersing into their tents to ready themselves for the day's march. Cardin stared daggers at her, but until he tried something, Ruby would leave him be.

"Not bad." A voice behind her drawled. Almost leaping out of her skin, Ruby swiveled to find Tribune Schnee behind her, smiling behind a mask of drowsiness.

"Ave, Tribune Schnee!" She saluted. Yang copied her sister's gesture.

"Ave, Centurion Rose." She yawned. "Forgive me. I find mornings to be the most difficult part of the day." Nodding at the row of tents, she gave Ruby a tired smile. "I see the speech I made you memorize last night went well." The new centurion kicked at the ground with her hob-nailed sandals.

"I thought I sounded a little scared." Weiss appraised the centuria with piercing blue eyes.

"It is in your best interest to show no signs of weakness. Everyone is seeking to test you, to push you to your breaking point. Take care you do not fall, for if you do, they will seize upon you like a pack of hounds." With that, the tribune turned and fled, stalking back to the center of camp. Ruby thought the advice, while frightening, was wise. _But for some reason_, _I don't think she was talking to me. _

* * *

The crucified forms cast a grim pallor over the Legio Pahrus as it set out towards Lugdunum, but once they were clear, Jaune could not help but smile. The sun shone a brilliant orange as it rose above them, birds singing a glorious chorus as they heralded the new day.

Yes, Jaune loved mornings. They were refreshing and brisk, and reminded him of his morning runs with Pyrrha. The woman in question was at his side, riding upon her favorite horse, a grey mare named Atalanta. Her battle headdress still rested upon her head. Noticing her eyes, she gave him a small smile, which he returned. Clearly downcast, he rode up to her, giving her a wide grin.

"Is something amiss, Pyrrha? As your client and friend, let me help with whatever ails you." Pyrrha chuckled softly as he recounted her own words to her, but her gaze remained fixed on her Atalanta's neck.

"What if you are the problem?"

"I… I'm sorry if I've given offence…" She waved his stuttering away with the back of her hand.

"It is not you specifically, rather, Romans in general." Ah. The slaves. Despite her dejected tone, Jaune felt a measure of relief. He wasn't sure if he could handle being hated by Pyrrha.

"Truth be told, crucifixion unnerves me as well." He shifted in his seat. "Their blood was demanded by the senate, so we spilled it. I cannot see why that is not enough. Alas, they must be strung up and tortured as well." He sighed. "Romans have a thing about accountability." He said. Pyrrha looked at him. "A very large thing about accountability."

"So it would seem."

"What would you do with such prisoners where you're from?" His greek adjutant leaned back, remembering.

"The ones we couldn't sell were executed. A swift, clean death."

"Ah. And those bandits you fought when you were sixteen?" Jaune never asked much about her past, despite many opportunities. Their conversations usually revolved around tactical discussions and friendly verbal sparring. Pyrrha drew her thumb across her neck.

"To a man." Jaune gave a low whistle.

"How many were there?"

"Near a thousand. The Silvershield at that time was barely five hundred. We'd been after them for near on a month, after they harried trade wagons bound to Apollonia. I'm sorry," She sighed, "this must be terribly uninteresting." Jaune gaped.

"Not at all. In fact, if you could continue…" Pyrrha gave him a smile.

"Very well. We'd tailed them to the Danube, and found them on the banks." She paused. "We waited until half of them crossed. Then, we struck. I cut them down in their hundreds. Their fellows on the other side, in their desperation and stupidity, tried to join the fight. When they emerged from the waters, panting and breathless, a phalanx was waiting for them. For a time, the blue Danube ran a deep, dark red." Jaune didn't say anything for a time. He couldn't.

"That's… wow. Were you in charge back then? Because that was brilliant." Despite her earlier melancholy, Pyrrha flushed, smiling.

"I was. My father left me in charge after my mother fell ill."

"So young, and already in charge… we're not so different." Jaune said with a wide grin. "Except you never had a great warrior helping you along at every step." Pyrrha shook her head, shrugging slightly.

"Not altogether true. My father was very strong and ingenious warrior. He pioneered the adaptability of the Silvershields. We drilled in both phalanx and horse. It helped lead us to victory that day on the Danube. The phalanx has become somewhat outdated, but he insisted we learn it." She shrugged. "It still has its uses."

"He sounds like a great man. Hopefully he won't come for my head after learning you've been paid to follow me around." Pyrrha laughed again.

"He understands the situation completely. I promise you, he will not stop by one day, demanding to face you in single combat for the honor of his daughter." _That's a relief_. Jaune chuckled himself; glad to see Pyrrha was in better spirits.

"You'll have to tell me more of your exploits. Maybe even about life in Epirus in general."

"What about you, Jaune? What of Rome, oh mighty senator spawn?" Pyrrha asked, a leering sideways glance at her friend.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I was a spoiled kid." Jaune said, rubbing the back of his head. Living a comfortable life in the heart of Rome with his seven sisters had not aided his martial ability. Pyrrha's arrival ten months ago had been a _very_ rude awakening. "Honestly, there isn't much you haven't already seen. The city is crowded and rank."

"So I found."

"You must have been a little lost your first day."

"Oh, undoubtedly. Rome had more people in it then I have seen in my entire life. Truth be told, it frightened me. I expected ambushes around every corner and alley."

"Were you not such a frightening warrior, you probably would have suffered several!" Pyrrha laughed.

"And yet, I am, so here I stand. So stand us both, at the head of Roman Legion."

"So stand us both."

They rode in silence for a while, contemplating the differences that had forged a fast friendship between them.

* * *

Blake's stomach turned. Along the road for almost six miles, her comrades and brethren hung, nailed to hastily constructed crosses. They wailed and moaned, dry throats begging for mercy or death. Maybe both. The wood that bore them was slick with blood, red lines that trailed from their impaled hands and feet. Grimm had set upon the ones farthest from camp, tearing them open and feasting upon the remains. Pools of black-tinged offal ringed the crucifixes where the night-creatures had tread, all that remained of souls brave enough to cast aside their shackles.

_Perhaps they were the lucky ones_. Blake mused, eyes fixed upon a cross that bore a single arm. _The ones that yet live will linger for days on end, until the strain tears them apart_.

"Blake?" Yang asked, startling her out of her thoughts. "Can I get some water?" She handed her master the skin. It was her duty to keep Yang and the rest of the command staff hydrated during the day's march, carrying the water and light grains for refreshment.

Blake watched her drink, not bearing to meet her eyes.

"I know my words don't mean much, but I'm very sorry you have to see this." Yang gave her the skin, and Blake's hands wound tight around it.

"Perhaps you Romans are right. Maybe they deserved it." She said icily.

"Ha! If you believe that, I'll eat my hamata." Yang said, letting loose a dark laugh. She ran her hands through her thick hair, teasing out the knots with strong fingers. "I don't even believe it myself. I really wish I hadn't had to be here. I think we could have been friends in another circumstance you know?"

"If you do not have the stomach for killing, then you have no business being a soldier." Blake replied. Every freed slave knew the price of freedom. It was a sword in hand, and a defiant cry on the lips.

"That's not it… I just…I would have much preferred to live in Rome. At least," She shrugged, "that's where I thought the action was." She nodded at the cloaked centurion before them. "But Ruby insisted we join the legions. I don't blame her. Mom was a veteran, you know. Got us a nice farm after fighting Augustus' wars. She was our hero. Ruby especially. When she disappeared…" Yang's violet eyes turned upwards, towards a darkening sky. "Ruby always had it in her head that she'd become a legionary. Kinda dragged me into it, and I've been grateful ever since. Despite my bellyaching, I wouldn't be anywhere else." Blake remained silent, marching alongside her master under the gaze of dying slaves. "What about you, Blake? You don't strike me as the warrior type."

"I'm not." She found herself saying. "I'm greek, you know." Yang did a double-take.

"Bite your tongue." Were it not for her suffering brethren, Blake would have laughed at her master's sheer surprise.

"I'm from Athens, actually. I was abducted when I was eleven, sold in Rome, and taken to Lugdunum. I'm… a scholar of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"I taught the children to read and write. My…" She'd been close to speaking of her parents, who'd taught her languages and scripts, poring over scrolls and volumes until the sun rose… and taught her other things as well. How to scale a wall. How to make her steps quiet and her blade silent. But the roman deserved to know nothing about her parents. Blake scowled. _She's already tricked me into saying too much._

"I'm sorry for prying. Maybe you could teach me to read! Dad didn't know, and Mom never had the time to teach us before she… disappeared." They lapsed into silence. Blake's eyes fell upon the red cloak in front of them. So did Yang join to protect her sister? Or for her own sake? Her master was a mysterious woman. Bright and jovial one moment, apologetic and nostalgic the next.

She sighed. _No sense getting involved. If I get too close, it'll be difficult to open her throat._ Already, she saw Ruby's eyes ripped wide open with grief and shock after finding her sister's body. _Such thoughts do me no good_. She forced her attention onto the legion, watching them march down the twisting road.

Each soldier carried their gear upon their backs, hoisting it over their soldiers with a thick wooden stick. There were thousands upon thousands of them, shuffling down the road without complaint or bickering, focused on putting one foot in front of the other. A treacherous, insidious thought wormed its way into her heart.

_What were we hoping to accomplish by rebelling? _The slave army she'd been a part of was disorganized and unruly. Marching anywhere took a good deal of rabble-rousing and yelling, and not even the burliest of rebels would deem themselves low enough to carry a load half as heavy as a legionary's. Yet every single soldier bore the weight without complaint.

_We were doomed from the start, if this is what we faced_. Discipline had churned everyone she'd known into butcher's slop, and the victors were marching away the next day as if nothing had happened. A voice reached out to her, whispered, harsh.

"B-Blake." She stopped dead in her tracks, turning towards the sound. Hanging above her was Adam, his face twisted and contorted in agony. He'd been crucified, and blood dripped slowly from his hands, falling to the earth. The bottom of the cross was hatched with claw marks, and most of his right foot was missing, chewed off by grimm, most like. Horror pulled at Blake, twisting cords of grief that threatened to tear her apart and rend her heart into oblivion.

Adam had been her mentor, her trusted ally. He was a bloodthirsty man to be sure, but as one of the leaders of the rebellion, he'd had everyone's best interests at heart. Now, he was food for carrion, not even allowed the dignity of clothing.

"Help… me." He whispered. Her mind raced. Adam's eyes fixed upon her, begging her for absolution. She delivered it to him, a flick of the wrist that sent her finger knife soaring into his throat. Choking and spitting upon the rush of blood, his head sunk low, spilling trails of ichor onto the grass. Her ears twitched and flattened, alert for any sign of trouble. No one had seen her, seen him succumb to death. Even Yang had not noticed her absence, trudging blindly alongside the column of soldiery that stretched to the horizon.

Blake's shaking hands uncapped the water flask, and she let the staid water rush down her throat. There was nothing else she could have done. She could have begged Yang to make Adam her slave as well, but he would had lived as a cripple, and Blake would be forced to debase herself, show weakness to her new master. _Better I gave him death_. _I saved him suffering, at least._

Her only regret was that she was now without a weapon.

* * *

**A/N: See? Just sunshine, lollypops and rainbows all around. (Starts singing 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life')**

**Seriously though, crucifixion is nasty. I guess you can see why it's rated 'M' now... **

**Oh, and quick notice, in case you haven't noticed, the sections of each chapter are often divided by POV character, and are not constrained by time or geography (much like Game of Thrones) i.e.: Jaune's section takes place _before_ Blake's, despite occurring (chronologically) after it.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! You'll have to let me know what you thought!**

_**Glossary of Terms**__**: **_**[****Oh, quick note, if you guys want ****pronunciation guides for each term, I'd be happy to edit them in!]**

**Hastile: A wooden rod, used by an Optio to enforce discipline in their Centuria.**

**Optio: A Centurion's second-in-command. Responsible for keeping discipline within the Centuria. Had many other duties as well, and have a spiffy horse-hair helm. Named 'optio' because they were chosen by their Centurion. (In latin, Option = to choose)**

**Phalanx: A rectangular troop formation native to Hellenistic cultures. It was comprised of tightly-packed soldiers called hoplites, who were stacked around eight men deep. They would lock shields, and troops behind the leader would lower long spears (or pikes), presenting a veritable wall of spears to the enemy. (Used by inexperienced Total War commanders to form the 'Noob Cube') ;) **

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Adam's Death: I'm sorry Adam fans (all dozen of you), but Adam had to die. Reason 1: There was no good way for me to fit him into the developing story, Reason 2: Besides being nebulously evil in canon, he's pretty boring. Reason 3: The previous two reasons, combined with his eventual fate, helped characterize Blake a little more. I hope it didn't come off too callously.**

**Pyrrha Using A Phalanx****: By the dawn of the Roman Empire, yes, the phalanx was falling out of use, as noted by Pyrrha. Too iconic (and fun) not to have in the story, though!**

**Pyrrha's treatment of prisoners: I'm not 100% that Greeks didn't torture their captives. I know the Spartans did so to rebellious helots, but the Spartans were always cut from a different cloth than the rest of their Hellenistic relatives. For the purposes of this story, whatever captives the Silvershield Company obtained, they killed the ones they could not sell.**

**Ruby taking Command: Suddenly being in control of those who used to be her comrades will have dire consequences... there's a reason promotions such as Ruby's were rare.**

**Blake Still Being a Ninja (of sorts): Now come on, if she was just a smart slave, that'd be boring! No, Blake's abilities will come to light in due time... (don't expect anything historically compliant though haha)**

**Blake's Backstory in General: Despite her being fairly young, she was still probably a competent teacher. Many greek slaves functioned as tutors, and since Blake was only eleven, she could be obtained at a much cheaper price than an older, more experienced slave. (Wow, I just realized what I typed out... Man, fuck ancient civilizations.) It's very plausible a eleven/twelve year old greek could read and write better latin then a literate Roman citizen. **

**Review Replies:**

**George Oswald Dannyson: Hey man, it's all good! Thanks for pointing out my mistakes! I left the description of them sheathing their swords out, since I figured it was implied. Thanks for the feedback! Hope you're still with me!**

**Via: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Maybe it's a case of my ego well exceeding its natural limits, I find myself agreeing with you about Jaune. The potential these characters have is astounding, and in canon they fall flat, or don't hit the story beats as strongly as they could. I'm trying my best to make everyone engaging and believable!**

**Leivve: Wow, even _I'm_ learning something! Thanks for the feedback, I hope you keep reading! (I could really use input on the germans haha)**

**ocomfv: I'm thrilled you're having fun! I really enjoy Blake and Yang's dynamic here as well. And guess if you'd like, I love to hear predictions!**

**metimesthree: Wow, I'm blushing! :3 Thanks so much for your kind words! Hope you enjoyed today's chapter!**

**Guest: Yes, Faunus are a slight minority, but aren't limited to a particular geographic location. And each culture views them differently. Romans are fairly egalitarian, the Greeks can't stand them (Greek culture was, by and large, quite dickish), and celtic cultures frequently employ them as druids or priests/priestesses due to a perceived closeness to nature. That will all come out in the story though, you'll just have to wait! Thanks for all the reviews! :D**

**Hostis: Hope you're enjoying it!**

**OBSERVER01: I would hope so! Keep reading!**

**Next Chapter: More character debuts... I hope you like them! ;)**


	5. The Boys from Palatine Hill

**A/N: Salvete, amici! (Good health to you, friends!)**

**Chapter 5 of The Shining Legion is all ready to go! I hope you guys like it! It's a lot of fun! :3**

**No further delays, let's get to it!**

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**Chapter V: The Boys from Palatine Hill**

"Well?"

"Oh, stow it. The plan will work. I'm sure of it." Sun said, grinning at his fellow scout. Neptune shrugged, fingers tightening around his namesake's weapon. They stood upon a hill overlooking a walled encampment, shrouded from view by flush greenery. Scarlet's hand wrapped around the immaculately engraved hilt of his gladius, eager to begin their duty. Sage was near as well, his face serene despite the coming danger.

"There's more of them, now."

"Just a few dozen shield-bangers. Nothing to get your toga in a twist over." Their subordinates stood crouched behind them, poised to strike at a moment's notice. There were thirty of them, the mounted scouts of the Legio Pharus. Tonight however, their horses were grazing, free from battle-duty. They would be of no use in the assault against the wooden palisade that housed their enemy.

"Gods curse the day I joined the scouts, you stupid, thieving monkey." Neptune said, grinning despite his harsh words.

"I wouldn't ask the gods for protection, you walking blasphemy." Sun pulled his helmet over his head and buckled the last of his armor on. Drawing his gladius, he gave the gallic camp another look-over. A hundred men milled within, drunk or getting drunk. They'd been at it for some time now, and showed no signs of stopping.

"And what if you're wrong?" Neptune asked.

"Doubtful. And what's with the questions, man? You're always up for my usual schemes." Neptune rolled his eyes as he buckled his chinstrap, hiding away his shock of bright blue hair.

"Yeah… guess I just have a bad feeling."

"Me too." Sun admitted. He didn't want to believe the signs. _Gallic tribes taking up arms against Rome… why? We didn't manage to conquer all of them, sure… but to openly defy Roman authority?_ He scoffed. "Trust me, we'll be fine." Turning around, his comrades tensed. This is what they've been waiting for. Thirty pairs of eyes glared back under muddied, concealed foreheads, bloodlust and weeks of frustrating hunting about to boil over. Bows hung around their chests, strung and ready to fire. Each man was an archer as well as a legionary, a necessity of their duty as scouts and woodsmen. He nodded, and they stalked forward, the noise of their armor muffled by straps of dirty linen.

"Ready…" They hoisted their bows, each arrow tipped with a streak of pitch. "Light…" They dipped their arrows into the smokeless ember pit they'd built, and each arrow took flame. "Aim…" Thirty bows pointed towards the night sky, the burning tips of their arrows thirsting to catch and spread. "Loose!" A hiss of wind, and the arrows sailed into the camp, a barrage of flame that fell into the gauls. Screams and alarmed yelling took hold as men fell, their skin broiling from the arrows embedded in their chests. Tents caught fire, dry canvas sheets swallowing arrows and spitting out roiling infernos.

"Heave!" Sun cried. The men dropped their bows, running to the timber-boulder they'd constructed yesterday. "Heave, damn you!" He cried. They strained against the weight of their impromptu battering ram. It gave way, momentum ready to send it soaring down the hill. "Scarlet!"

"You got it, boss." Diving forward, Scarlet hurled an ember onto the pitch and thistle that covered the boulder. It gained speed, licks of flame spilling off it as it hurtled towards the camp.

"Forward! Let's do it, boys!" Sun cried, bursting forward. With a resounding war-cry, his comrades followed, storming after the boulder. With an ear-piercing shatter of splintered wood, the boulder crashed into the palisade. The sharpened stakes bent and broke before its weight, allowing the scouts a point of entry.

Sun and Neptune were the first ones in the camp, bellowing. Neptune was the first to strike, jamming his trident into the neck of a drunken gaul. Blood burst forward, and the man fell, gasping and choking.

A huge, screaming man ran at Sun, raising an enormous long sword. Sun grinned. _Big, stupid people are my specialty. _The sword flew downwards, hacking at Sun's shield. He pushed the blow aside, slipping his gladius between the man's ribs and slicing his lungs open. He fell instantly, grasping at the wound as he sank low.

Howling, an ax-man sprinted towards him, eager to join the fight. He washed over Sun like waves upon a rock, as the faunus scout ducked under the blow and shunted him in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground. Neptune jammed his trident down upon him, spearing him like a gasping fish.

The rest of the legionaries joined battle, storming past the boulder that still burned bright. The gauls surged forward, recognizing the danger that now plagued them.

"Ranks! Form ranks!" Their scuta locked together, forming an impenetrable barrier of wood and metal. The enemy crashed against it, their strain and struggle rewarded by a stiff rebuffing. Flashes of steel shone bright under the light of the crescent moon, stabbing forward to fell the numerable gauls. Screams of pain wafted into the air, ripped from the throats of wounded soldiers.

Sun shouldered forward, bashing away one enemy with his shield while stabbing another at his side. Neptune, Scarlet, and Sage flanked him, his three friends and stalwart shields. His men followed their example, pushing and shunting against the line of warriors that pressed against them.

The battle broke apart, the gauls racing back to the other side of the encampment, breathing sharp and tired breaths.

"Hold!" Sun cried. His men could use the brief breather. They needed it, however much they wanted to once again lock shields with the enemy. The biggest gaul, a man with a long moustache and a rounded shield stepped forwards, panting hard. A tartan cape flapped behind him, a sign of his rank. He addressed them in horrendous latin.

"Whassa matter with ya, Roman? Why ya breakin' inna my camp and killin' my men?" Anguished, burbling cries from the dying punctuated his point, haunting and desperate.

"Why are you taking up arms against the state? You've the right to gather neither men nor arms!" The man spat, wiping blood away from a split lip. Most of the tents were on fire now, the flames from their barrage of arrows spreading and taking new life.

"Spare us ya fancy words! I say you've done enuff!" He turned to his men, bellowing in gallic. They responded in half-hearted cries, voices stained with wine and exhaustion. Sun smiled. They'd caught them at the perfect opportunity. His plan was working.

"Sage, how many wounded we got?"

"Just Fallia and Ashwood." Sun nodded, appraising his injured comrades. They clutched at bleeding gashes, nodding at him. Sun breathed a sigh of relief. _They still draw breath_.

"I can fight, sir!" Fallia cried, anger burning bright in her eyes.

"You're wounded, and I won't hear of it. You too, Ashwood." The man grumbled in frustration.

The gauls were readying themselves for another attack, shaking their spears and axes, bashing them against their rounded shields.

"Neptune. I kill their chief. You and Sage keep the others at bay. Scarlet?" The red-haired scout glowered, readying his shield. "Take your conturibunum and wheel towards the exit." He nodded. Sun turned to his men. "The Twins have given us the blessing of discipline. Let the stupid bastards throw themselves upon it. Second Exploratores Detachment! Ready pila!"

They drew their javelins, readying to hurl them at the gauls. Sensing what was to come, they stampeded forwards, desperate to halt the deadly wave of missiles. "Loose!" They weren't fast enough. Silent and heavy, the pila hurtled towards their targets, spearing shields and men alike. They stumbled and fell, the sudden weight crashing into them and stalling their advance. "CHARGE!" Sun cried.

Once again, the combatants met in a clash of swords and shouts. Sun's scutum met the rounded shield of the gallic chieftain, and they struggled against each other. Separating, swords rattled off shields, and the harsh cry of steel on steel singing with a rapid intensity. Sage brought his gladius into the face of a gaul, keeping the painted warrior from aiding his chieftain. He kicked outwards at the next one, blocking a swinging spear with his hob-nailed sandals. Hacking away the spearhead, he advanced on the warrior, raining blows against his thinning shield.

Sun cursed as a particularly hard blow knocked his shield aside. With a grunt, he managed to bring his gladius around in time to knock away the sword that was screaming for his neck. Roaring, he brought his scutum around, deflecting the next blow. The chieftain was a mighty warrior, but he lacked one advantage that Sun possessed. He pushed forward, pressing his shield tight against the larger man. They could not come to blows, as they both shoved and shunted, desperate to gain an advantage.

Giving the man a wide smile, Sun plucked his pugio from his belt with his tail. The chieftain's eyes widened, sure of what was to come, but too slow to stop it. A hiss of steel, and Sun thrust the dagger into his eye. Screaming and clutching at the cold steel, he fell backwards.

"Well struck!" Neptune bellowed, harrying an opponent with the long reach of his trident. The chieftain wailed and screamed before Sun crushed his throat, stamping the life from him. Watching the humiliation of their leader, unease spread like a plague among the gauls. The pila had rendered many of them shield-less, and thus helpless against the Romans.

Marching forward, the scouting detachment hammered the enemy, thinning them and separating them between walls of shields, where the press of metal and wood ground them into meat.

The gauls broke as one. Fleeing the battle and casting aside their weapons and armor, they found Scarlet waiting for them, seven men at his side. They butchered the gauls to a man, the final twenty men falling to Scarlet's rhythmic, cold precision.

Neptune gave a sigh of relief, leaning upon his trident.

"Are there any more wounded?" A flurry of negatives. Sun laughed. "The day is ours then! Roma Victrix!"

"ROMA VICTRIX!" They bellowed, thrusting their bloodied swords into the sky.

"That was well done, Sun." Sage said, wiping away the filth that covered his sword. "Thirty men struck down nigh on one hundred, and no losses to report."

"We'll see about that! Medics! See to Fallia and Ashwood." Those trained in the healing arts dashed off to see to their comrades, bandages already in hand. The wounds looked serious, despite their protests to the contrary.

Sun kicked over the chieftain, retrieving his pugio with his tail. He prodded at his plate armor, turning over the mail and assorted steel leaves. Even stained with blood and hastily attached, he could tell it was newly forged.

"This is nice stuff." Sage said, noticing Sun's appraisal.

"You sure?" He nodded, removing his helmet and revealing his sweat-stained face. Wiping at his brow, he crouched besides the corpse.

"Undoubtedly. Vulcan's fires taught me well." The four scouts were all orphans of the temple district, and close since a very young age. Sage learned Vulcan's arts in the god's forge-shrine, Scarlet learned war from the Basilica of Mars, Neptune lived in his namesake's temple, and Sun himself was the glue that kept them together, a devotee and frequent illicit fund-gatherer for Mercury. Though hailing from Palantine Hill, they were all talented scouts and woodsmen, hand-picked by their instructors for their resilience and fleetness of foot.

That they'd been friends for years did not come as a surprise to the drill-leaders.

"This is troubling." Sun said. "How'd this pissant gaul afford this kind of armor?"

"Told you I had a bad feeling." Neptune said, giving him a leering grin.

"Oh, go sit on your trident. And it's nothing to grin about." Sun sighed. "Scarlet. Deal with the wounded. Everyone else, search the camp, and grab what you can!" Beckoning his friends along, walking up to the largest tent, which currently remained free of flames. Inside sat many trophies of war, banners and offerings all piled in front of a large oaken chest.

The setup reeked of treachery, and Sun realized why.

"He was gathering men." Sage said. Sun nodded in agreement.

"Those are different tribal banners. There's only a few now. Must've been two or three tribes with him. But why? How? Most tribes are firmly under Roman rule…" Neptune kicked open the chest, eyes spreading wide at what it contained.

"Uh… Sun…"

"What is… it…" His words died away, crushed into nothingness under the sheer weight of gold that sat in the chest. It was so full of thick, shining coins, some of the gold slipped away from its brethren and fell to the mat below. Mouth hanging open, Sun stooped to examine one.

It was thick and newly minted, emblazoned with a woman's face. Stamped on its back was a roaring flame, pressed tight into the soft metal. _These aren't roman… certainly not gallic…_

"Sun, I urge you, for once in your life," Neptune started, "please resist your thieving impulses. Ozpin needs to see this money. Something's amiss here, and it's possible he knows what it is." The faunus sighed in agreement.

"It is for the Legio Pharus. But everything else, we steal!" Sage, as usual, did not laugh at his friends antics, but still allowed him the briefest of smiles. Neptune chuckled.

"Would certainly be a waste for the dead men to have the good gear." Sun pushed aside the tent flap, bellowing for his men.

"Anticus! Marcus! Get your asses over here!" The men approached, saluting. Jerking his thumb into the tent behind him, Sun gave them a wolfish grin. "Strip it bare. Leave nothing of use."

"Aye, sir."

"What of any more tribes lured in by the gold?" Sage asked. "Two dozen arrived just hours ago. We cannot sit here and lead raid after raid against every carrion gaul that comes running at the scent of riches." Sun thought about it. Sage was right. They didn't have the manpower or the supplies for that kind of duty. He turned to Neptune.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take a few coins." He said, wearing his usual smile. Neptune rested his face in a bloodstained palm.

"Dare I ask for what?"

"You'll see." Drawing his gladius, Sun left the tent. The night air was full of smoke, the smell of burning flesh, and gurgling, pained screams cut short by Roman swords. He found the chieftain, the slit in his eye softly weeping blood. Wrapping his tail in the man's braided orange hair, he sawed at his neck, grinding through sinew and bone. The deed was done in a minute. It was disgusting and crude, but he would not risk the lives of his men on a fool's errand. This way, they could live to report their findings.

"Sun?" Scarlet asked, wiping his sword clean.

"A message. We can't stay and harry any more traitorous tribes. The least we can do is send a message. Roman law is absolute. Foreign gold will not save them from our wrath." Scarlet nodded. "Find a stake. A tall one. Put this," he hurled the head at his friend, who caught it with a ready hand, "upon it." Sun drew forth the coin. "And put this between his teeth. Ring the camp with the bastards. I want it done in an hour!" Saluting, Scarlet and his conturibinum hurried to their task. _It's impossible to tell when the next group will arrive… we'd be better off long gone before the next one arrives._

Sun allowed himself a warm feeling, breathing in the funeral pyre of a shattered nascent enemy. His scouts had done Rome and the Legio Pharus a great service tonight. They'd fought valiantly, against a enemy that outnumbered them._ A little ingenuity in tackling problems never hurt._ He thought, a smile on his lips.

_And neither does a healthy bonus for a job well done_. He added, twirling a bag of stolen gold around with his tail. _Alas, old habits die long deaths._

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**A/N: I originally had this as just a quick cut-away, but SSSN grew on me to the point where they demanded their own chapter. Can canon SSSN be this badass? Please? I guess we'll see next season...**

**ANYWAY... what did you guys think? Please please _please _let me know! I appreciate every follow and fave, but reviews are like cocaine and MOMMA NEEDS HER HIT!**

**Erm... sorry. Time for my footnotes!**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Exploratores****: ****Designated scouts of the Roman legion. They are payed twice the standard wage. Historically, that is literally all that is known about them, and I'm not sure what their role/equipment/makeup was like. So I made some stuff up! The Exploratores, for the purposes of this fic, are mounted legionaries/bowmen/woodsmen, sent ahead to scout for enemies and other various threats. **

**Mars: Roman god of war, and alleged father of Romulus, founder of Rome.**

**Mercury: Roman god of trade, roads, thieves, travel, and heralds.**

**Palatine Hill: This hill, located in the center of ancient Rome, was considered holy, and many temples were situated on or around it.**

**Neptune: Roman god of the sea, and Neptune's namesake.**

**Vulcan: Roman god of the Forge. (Culturally appropriated Hephaestus)**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Why are the members Team SSSN devotees of various Roman gods?:**** I debated about doing this, but it seemed too much fun not to. Plus, it gives them a little more of a theme than just 'the people who fill up Sun's team". Hopefully it doesn't grate too badly.**

**"Forge-Shrine of Vulcan": I admit it, this is made up. Sounds pretty fuckin' cool though, don't it? Chalk it up to general AU-ness.**

**What rank is Sun? Why is he leading the scouts when he's a faunus?: Sun is a Decurion, a cavalry term, which means (in practice) the leader of thirty men. And faunus are treated like all other 'minorities' in the Roman Empire: you have Roman Citizenship, and you're good to go.**

**Gauls building a palisade camp at the bottom of a hill: They're... not terribly bright.**

**Gauls having plate armor: Actually historically accurate! Thanks, Leivve! :D**

**Gauls causing mischief: Not all gallic tribes submitted to Roman rule! Many remained independent, ignoring or harassing Romans as they saw fit. Definitely in the minority though.**

**WHY THE HELL DID SUN CUT HIS HEAD OFF?: It made sense to Sun in order to avoid the deaths of his men, so he did it. Kinda how war worked back then.**

**Neptune is still named Neptune: Eh. Maybe his parents weren't super creative. **

**Neptune uses a trident: He uses a trident that can be wielded with one hand, and still carries a scutum around.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**ocomfv: Thank you so much! Your reviews always make me smile. :3 Oh, and I won't give any outright hints, but those are some interesting predictions! ;)**

**SovietSniper92: Yay, you're back! No CFVY today, but I hope you liked SSSN!**

**OBSERVER01: Um... yeesh dude. Decimations only occurred if the unit ran away in battle. _NEVER_ over something (comparatively) trivial like insubordination.**

**Leivve: Wow, thanks so much for all the info! You're the best! I knew about the Blood Eagle, but everything else... wow! Thanks man! :D**

**blacklight666: Hooray, fellow history geek! **

**metimesthree: Okay, you can nail them to their crosses. I'll pass. XP**

**Via: Daww, thanks so much for your review! It means a lot! Glad you're liking the story! :D**

**Next Chapter: Trouble in the Fourth Centuria...**


	6. Centurion Ruby Rose

**A/N: Sorry about the wait, everyone! A World of Bloody Evolution is sucking up pretty much all of my time! Don't worry though, I'm still trying to plug away at this!**

**Gear up, milites, this is an interesting chapter.**

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**Chapter VI: Centurion Ruby Rose**

Ruby found marching as a Centurion identical to marching as a milites. Unfortunately, that was where the similarities ended. Her friends and comrades had become her subordinates overnight, and now the time she passed chatting amicably or joking was spent alone, lost in her thoughts. Most looked at her with the fear she associated with Acheron, and some with thinly veiled contempt. She accepted a swallow of water from her sister's slave, rinsing her mouth and savoring the small measure of relief if brought. The sun was at its peak, and bearing down on the legion with a merciless summer glare.

Yang was enjoying her new position though, and reminded Ruby of the pay increase that came with their promotions. They could lead comfortable lives after their service in the Legio Pharus. _If I make it that long_. Ruby thought, catching a hated glare from Cardin. _I will sleep with my pugio clutched tight against my heart_.

"I don't think he likes you." The new voice startled Ruby. She turned to face the speaker. It was Flavia, the Fourth's Centuria's signifer. Long strands of pink hair jutted out from underneath her bear pelt, whose snarling fangs and twisted snout covered the upper half of her face. Large blue eyes sat below the skin, wide and inquisitive.

"I…" This was the first time Flavia had spoken to her since her promotion last night. As part of the command staff for the Fourth Centuria, it was her duty to rally the troops and bear their standard on the battlefield. "I think you're right."

"It isn't my place to keep discipline. But it's an observation I thought you'd appreciate." Ruby snorted.

"Gods, believe me, I noticed. If he glared any harder, I think my hair would fall out." Flavia laughed, the sound of water running along an aqueduct.

"Ma'am I felt the need to approach you"

"What is it, Signifer Flavia?" The woman smiled, eyes fixed on the horizon ahead.

"I can see your struggle, it is as plain as day. Look at it like this. The starer?" She said, pointing at Cardin.

"Cardin?" Flavia nodded.

"What would Acheron have done if he had given him such contemptuous looks?" Ruby paled at the thought. "_Exactly_." She clapped her centurion on the shoulders. "General Ozpin and the gods have put you here, and you haven't died yet, so here you are. Personally, I think you'll do fine. Yesterday morning's events were clear enough indication of that. Mara be praised, had I a weapon, I would have gladly joined you in your quest to save Tribune Schnee."

"You… don't have a weapon?"

"Besides Consul Hirtus' mean stares," She said, turning her eyes upwards at the bear pelt, "I have only the standard and a buckler." Ruby considered this.

"It's a rare bravery that allows you to go into battle so lightly armed."

"I am armed with the faith of my Centuria. They rely upon me to hold their colors high." She took a long look at Ruby, searching her new centurion. "If I fall, we are all surely lost. So therefore, I shall not fall." She spoke with such certainty; it was hard not to take her words as fact. Flavia looked ahead, at the cohorts ahead of them as they marched. Their sandals made a rhythmic slapping against the road, exacting and inexorable. "I am the heart of the Fourth Centuria."

It was true. The standards carried by Flavia were the pride of the Centuria, and would bear their future accolades and achievements. The men that fought under its banner would die rather than see it fall to the enemy.

"You, Ma'am," Flavia continued, "are its legs." The thought made Ruby laugh, the first time since the battle.

"Its legs?" Flavia smiled.

"But of course! Without you, the Centuria has no support, no direction. How can a body without legs move? By rolling and dragging itself along?" She snorted. "Hardly!" Ruby sighed, shifting the weight of her sarcina to her other shoulder.

"I'm afraid that doesn't bring me much comfort." Flavia laughed again.

"One would find it difficult to believe you joined the Legions in order to seek comfort!" They didn't speak for a time. "Acheron should have lived." Flavia's gaze reached out to the trees on the horizon. "He was a good man and a loyal Roman. Prove to them you can take his place, and the rest will come along in time."

"Flavia?" Ruby said.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Thank you." Ruby said. The signifer spoke with an unflinching and refreshing honesty. A fist fell over Flavia's breast, and Consul Hirtus dipped in respect.

"I am the heart of the Centuria. It is my duty." _Odd words, _Ruby mused, _but so very… Flavia_. She realized.

Her gaze shifted to her men. _You are not their friend anymore. Your job is to bring them home, and keep them working as a fighting unit._ Falling back, she gave beckoned Yang over with a wave. She jogged forward, Blake in tow.

"Salve, sis! Is something wrong?"

"I just spoke with Flavia."

"Really?" Yang sniffed. "She didn't strike me as the chatty type."

"Well, she did give me a good idea."

"What's that?"

"If Cardin gives me another glare, crack him a good one in the knee." Yang beamed.

* * *

The sun hung low in the sky, orange and dull in the evening sky, and purple clouds passed over the Legion as they halted their march for the day. Yang stretched her neck, setting down her sarcina with a groan of discomfort. It had been yet another boring day of marching, setting one plodding foot in front of another. Yesterday had shown her the Legio Pharus was indeed the best place for adventure, but alas, such excitement was punctuated by endless tedium. She'd tried speaking with Blake, but besides the brief conversation they'd had that morning, she'd remained silent. Ruby had been quiet as well, no doubt milling over her promotion.

Yang saw nothing but good from it, but it seemed her sister didn't share that disposition. Letting out a yawn, Flavia jammed the sharp end of the standard pole into the earth; this was to be their campsite.

A rider approached the Fourth Centuria, hooves spraying dirt. It was Tribune Schnee, her arm in a linen sling, white hair wrapped tight around her neck.

"Centurion Rose." She said, coming to a stop before her charge.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Your centuria is on ditch-digging duty tonight. See to it that it is done. Afterwards, come to my tent for your lessons. It is already up, in the center of camp." Ruby saluted, fist over her heart. Yang let out a groan, which earned her a sharp look from the tribune. _Shit_. Her glare sent shivers down Yang's spine. Luckily, a menacing glare seemed to be punishment enough. "With haste, Centurion. We have much to cover tonight." Patting her horse, she rode off.

"You got this, sis!"

"We'll see." She turned to the Centuria, the last of which were now arriving at the designated campsite. "Fouth Centuria! Attention! We have been assigned the duty of digging ditches for tonight's camp!" Assorted moans and complaints rang out through the men. The last thing anyone wanted to do after marching all day was to pick up their spades and dig trenches.

Dove Bronzewing threw his pack down, huffing.

"I don't care what the General says. You're not our superior, Ruby. So stop acting like it." Silence ruled the Fourth Centuria. Even Cardin was not dumb enough to challenge Ruby's authority in such an open, brash manner. It showed, as the towering decanus glowered at his friend with cold surprise. Yang's head whirled around to face her sister, whose face had gone ashen.

She felt a surge of energy rush into her. This was it. Yang had feared something like this would happen, but not so soon! _Not a day after her promotion!_ For a second, silence reigned as the Fourth Centuria waited anxiously for her response. Dove's words were rank insubordination, and the next few seconds would decide her future as a leader, and the future of the legionary sisters for the rest of their careers.

"Optio Yang. Bring me Milites Dove Bronzewing." Yang showed no hesitation, lunging forward and wrapping her fist in the tunic of her former conturibinum member. She hurled him sprawling into the mud. He tried to stand, but Yang drove her foot into the back of his head, grinding his nose into the dirt at Ruby's feet.

"You are charged with insubordination, soldier."

"Fuck you." Dove spat. Yang hammered her foot down, silencing him once more. Ruby shook with anger and disbelief and terror.

"Flavia. Bring me the _flagrum_." A nervous sweat broke out among the Fourth Centuria. The flagrum was reserved for disobedient and unruly slaves, not legionaries. With nine thick strands of hard leather instead of the singular one reserved for a legionnaire, it was extraordinarily, brutally painful. Dove struggled, but Yang allowed him no reprieve. He managed to twist his head around.

"No, please don't, I swear I won't-"

"I will have _silence_." Ruby growled. The kind and generous young woman Yang had known all her life had completely disappeared behind the mask of a Centurion. She swallowed, her throat working for more air. "Tie him up." _One of her unpredictable streaks…_

Yang obeyed, hauling Dove to his feet and dragging him to the standard of the Fourth Centuria.

"Yang, please, you have to stop her, we were all thinking it! Cardin was telling me the whole march-" Her fist connected with his jaw, flooring him. Dove writhed, spitting blood at the feet of his comrades, who did their best to distance themselves from him.

Removing a cord of rope from her pack, Yang secured him to the standard before tearing the cloth from his back. Her stomach churned in disgust. Acheron's punishments were rare, but Yang had only seen them at a distance, and never so close. And she'd never partook in rendering a comrade so bare and helpless. Then, she remembered it was the Optio's duty to administer punishments to the offending legionaries. _I must do it._ _I will have to flay the skin from Dove's back_. Her hand shook, trembling at her side.

Flavia approached, bearing the flagrum. Yang reached out for it. Giving her sister a desperate, pleading look, Ruby shook her head.

"I'll do it myself." Taking the lash with trembling fingers, Ruby spun on her heel, approaching the center of their camp.

"No, please!" Dove cried as Ruby neared. She jammed a piece of leather in his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue off. Turning to address her men, she took a deep breath.

"This morning, I asked for…" She paused, swallowing. "I d_emanded_ obedience. And this is your response. General Ozpin and Tribune Schnee have shown faith in me. By dishonoring my command, Dove Bronzewing, you have dishonored myself, your Centuria, our tribune, our general, and the entire Legio Pharus."

"No, Ruby _please_!"

"The punishment for insubordination is ten lashes. Fourth Centuria! Atten-_SHUN_!" Tired and weary though they were, they snapped forward to bear witness to their comrade's suffering.

Ruby hoisted the flagrum, and brought it down in sweeping, vicious arc. Red lines sprung into being on Dove's back, and he screamed in agony. Yang cringed, trying not to make eye contact with her sister. _If I meet her eyes… either she'll break down weeping or I will_.

"One!" Leather straps whistled. "Two!" Again. "Three!" The lines multiplied, weeping blood. "Four!" Her next strike sent blood flying through the air, droplets spattering the gathered soldiers. "Five!" Dove was weeping, tears flooding down his dirt-stained cheeks. Each strike brought forth an animalistic howl of pain. "Six!" _Whish_. "Seven!" _Crack_. "Eight!"

"Ruby…" Yang whispered. Her sister's face was twisted, in horror or rage, it was impossible to tell.

"Nine! Ten!" The final strike made a wet squelching sound as it shredded away Dove's flesh. He sank low, blood pouring down his lacerated back. Not a square inch of skin was spared the lash, and each wound wept red rivers.

"And barley for a month, for laziness." Ruby added. Her right arm was spotted with blood, cast into the air from her frantic whipping. A small crowd had gathered to watch the punishment, stunned that a legionary was suffering the flagrum. "You have a ditch to dig, Centuria!" She roared. "Get to it!" They did, hurrying for their spades, earlier weariness forgotten.

"I'm going to see Weiss." Ruby said, buckling her cape on and stomping away. Dove was still conscious somehow, muffled screams of pain finding no sympathy among his comrades. Yang ran over to Ruby, pulling at her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"Make sure they do their duty." She said.

"Ruby…" Yang whispered. Blake materialized next to her.

"Blake… Blake I... Oh gods." Yang looked at her slave with desperate violet eyes, words dying on her lips and all rationality failing her. What… what happened to Ruby? Blake blinked slowly, appraising her master with rich, wheat-yellow eyes.

Watching the red cloak fade into the traffic of camp, Yang bit back a surge of bile that rose in her throat. "Oh gods. I didn't know she was _capable_ of that."

* * *

Ruby felt the world shift beneath her feet as they carried her to Weiss' tent. The camp rose around her, shouts of busy soldiers washing over her shoulders. She looked at her hands. One was bloody, the other spotless. Her breaths came short and hurried, not nearly enough to fill her lungs. Finding the tribune's tent, she tore open the flap, finding the officer in question sitting down for dinner.

A fruit of some sort fell from her fingers, her jaw sinking low.

"Centurion Rose? I wasn't expecting you for another… what on _Earth_ happened to you?"

"I… there was… a dissenter. Insubordination." It all came rushing up, the screams, the feel of the leather as it bit deep into Dove's back. The blood splashing over her arms. She fell to her knees, vomiting.

"Oh, gods!" Weiss cried, rushing forward. Her retinue backed away from the mess on the floor, careful to avoid their superior as she barreled past. "What did you do?"

"F-flagrum." Ruby spat, wiping flecks of bile from her lips. "I wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. I was so scared. Oh, _gods_." She sank back, sucking in air. Weiss edged forward.

"Are you ok?" Ruby blinked hard, desperate not to cry_. No matter what, I will not weep._

"I… think so. That was awful."

"You need to tell me exactly what happened." Weiss said, taking her charge's hands in her own.

"You left. I told them they needed to dig. One of my soldiers, Dove, he said I wasn't really their leader… no matter…" She sniffed, swallowing hard. "No matter what General Ozpin said." Weiss frowned, her hands tightening around Ruby's.

"Ruby. Ruby. You're ok. You did the right thing. Shhh. Breathe deep." Ruby obeyed. She felt more vomit threaten to spill forth, but fought to keep it down.

"I… I thought fighting in the battle was bad… why… why is this worse?" She said, voice hitching as she fought to retain composure. Weiss tore her hands away, looking deep into the Centurion's silver eyes.

"Fighting the enemy is one thing, punishing your fellow soldier is another. I understand."

"Y-you do?"

* * *

"I do." She didn't. As the scion to a noble house, no one had dared question her word, not since she came of age. Weiss would wield punishments if it was required of her, but thankfully, discipline was not an issue in her retinue. While Albus still sniped her endlessly, he was always loyal, despite his smarting tongue. The rest of her comrades remained loyal and steadfast servants of House Schnee. So she found herself lying to Ruby, just to make her feel better. _Why? Why am I so concerned about what she thinks of the matter? She did the right thing, even if using the flagrum was a bit excessive._ She took hold of Ruby's shoulders once more. "You are a Centurion now. These lashes will not be your last. Realize that."

"But-"

"But _nothing_." Weiss hissed. "You are their leader. Not their friend, not their _chum_. You lead. That is all you do. It is as I said this morning. Never show weakness or hesitation. Not for a moment. Not just for your sake, but for theirs. Will they follow you into battle, if they smell frailty? No. Tonight, you showed them you are made of sterner stuff."

"Weiss, I don't know, they looked just as scared as I did."

"Good. Even better. Inspiring terror works just as well." But looking at Ruby's face, an incarnation of terror was the farthest thing from what she saw. She looked like a petrified little girl.

_And it is your fault._

The realization made Weiss sick. _It is your fault she's suffering. You wanted to thank her, so you dumped a promotion on her shoulders, and didn't think twice about the consequences. Could you have swallowed your outdated values for a second and threw some oak leaves on her head? No, you had to be _better_ than that._

"Weiss?" Ruby was looking up at her. "Ma'am?" She said, catching herself.

"Breathe deep, Ruby. Come, sit and eat with us. Rest easy." She leaned over to Albus, who was watching the display with a posed look. _Arrogant old fool_. "Find Soldier Dove in Fourth Centuria. Attend to him immediately." She hissed. If Dove died of his wounds, Ruby could face death for murdering her subordinate. There was a reason the flagrum only fell on slaves.

"Oh, he'll be fine. I remember when-"

"_Now_." She spat. Shrugging, the older man took a hunk of bread and left the tent. Turning to Ruby, she sighed. "Just because you're not well right now does not mean you get to miss your lesson, Centurion."

"Y-Yes, Ma'am."

"Tonight… we'll focus on letters." Ruby nodded.

* * *

Blake watched Dove's punishment with growing shock. Ruby had seemed the quiet and unassuming type when her master had introduced them last night. Rank sat poorly on her shoulders, that much had been plain. But now… each and every romans' focus was on her, sweat staining their brows like thick morning dew.

Besides the brand on her back, her previous master rarely subjected his slaves to pain as great as the legionary was receiving. However, the man tied to the standard was not a slave. He was a roman citizen, born with rights and privilege. And he howled like a _dog_.

Blake wanted to feel a sense of justice, wanted to cackle as each blow fell, relish in the revenge, but found that she could not. She couldn't meet her master's eyes, as they were focused somewhere else. As hard as it was to watch, she couldn't imagine watching a close relative torture someone like this.

Ruby finished, tossing the whip aside and bellowing an order. They scrambled to their shovels, desperate to flee their superior officer. She obliged them, storming away from the weeping legionary. Yang hurried after her sister, and Blake trailed her before Ruby snapped at the blond-haired woman and continued on her way.

She wanted to enjoy the look on her master's face, revel in the shock and the hint of fear, but instead a slab of grief welled within her heart, as cold and unwelcome as iron.

* * *

**A/N: OOC? Maybe. I tried to make it look believable that Ruby would snap like that (i.e. she was challenged, and totally over-blew it, not really sure what she was doing) More in the 'notes' section. Also, I just noticed, this chapter has perspectives from all of team RWBY! **

**That's why we obey orders, milites. (And don't promote people out of turn)**

**Anyway, some OC introductions. Hurrah for adorable signifers! :D Hope Flavia didn't grate too badly. **

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Flagrum: Cat o' Nine Tails. A wooden stick with nine straps of leather attached at the end. Used as an extreme form of punishment.**

**Sarcina: The Legionary's marching pack. It was attached to a long wooden pole called the furca, which the soldiers rested on their shoulder. Used by all members of the legion (except for high-born officers and officials) It bore all of the soldier's armor, weapons, cooking utensils, clothing, and enough rations for three days.**

**Signifer: Standard bearer for the Centuria. Flavia takes this job very seriously, and they did function as the heart of the Centuria, much as the Aquilifer did for the legion as a whole. (They carried the Aquila, the gilded symbol of Roman Might)**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Ruby whipping the shit out of Dove:**** Believe it or not, Dove got off lightly. Insubordination was normally treated with instant death, but that happened more often with physical acts (striking an officer, etc.) As to why Ruby went berserk, she's reputed (by Yang) to have an 'unpredictable streak', which will be touched more upon later. She also reacted this way because she was terrified of messing up, or losing control of her command. Romans took rank very seriously, and Ruby acted like a cornered animal, lashing out (literally) as hard as she could to stomp out any scent of disobedience. I tried very hard to keep this in character for her, but I'm not sure if it came across as intended. Please, give me your thoughts on the matter.**

**Why Dove, and Not Cardin: Reason 1: It was unpredictable, and Reason 2: Cardin's a decanus, so he has at least a small measure of intelligence. He doesn't like Ruby being in charge, but he's better at toeing the line.**

**Ditch-Digging: Every night after marching, the Legion would dig defensive ****encampments, complete with trenches and whatnot.**

**Yang as Optio: Whipping Dove _was_ her duty, but Ruby decided to make a more personal impact.**

**Why does Flavia have pink hair?: I****t didn't seem realistic to me that just the RWBY cast would have fanciful hair/eye colors. Realism in my fanfiction. Realism in my RWBY, Roman Empire AU fanfiction. I don't get it either.**

**'Consul Hirtus': Flavia named her bear-pelt 'Consul Hirtus', which is the roman equivalent of naming your favorite furry hat "President Fluffles"**

**Signifer having a bear-pelt: Many depictions of signifers have them wearing bear-pelts, but I'm not 100% if this was accurate to the early Empire. I decided to roll with it, 'cause it looks cool.**

**"Barley for a month": A relatively tame punishment, inflicted upon the lazy. Since laziness was the stem of Dove's complaint, Ruby saw fit to prescribe him this diet. Don't get me wrong though, that shit was vile.**

**Ruby being killed for Dove's punishment: This was a real thing. If a centurion or other superior officer killed a subordinate during a non-lethal punishment, they were to be killed in turn.\**

**"I think my hair would fall out": Common Roman curses (especially against women) involved someone going bald.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**ocomfv: Glad you're enjoying this! I always love getting your reviews! :D**

**OBSERVER01: Well... here it is... kinda! **

**Dustbringer Terra: I'm so glad you took a chance on this! I really love writing this fic, but unless it gets more interest, I can't justify spending too much time on it! :(**

**metimesthree: It's my specialty! ;) haha**

**Via: I was pleased with them too! Their personalites, as current unknowns, were difficult to develop, but they're serviceable for now! Happy you like them! They'll definitely play a large role in this story.**

**Pschyco789: Should be better now... oh... damn. It's gone again. :(**

**Leivve: The plot as a whole is pretty much planned out, but expect a slower pace. There's a lot of set-up that needs to happen, and history was very slow to make back in the day. Glad you're enjoying yourself! :D**

**Yoshtar: Your review made me blush! :3 I'm thrilled you're liking this as much as you are, because I have a blast writing it. I'm happy that on some level, my world-building is working, or at least tolerable. It's too much fun to do! And yes, this fic is like 'The More You Know' except for being the opposite of family friendly. :P**

**Next Chapter: Two 'new' characters arrive in a very entertaining manner... I think you know which ones! ;)**


	7. Of Germans and Gauls

**A/N: Alright, this is fun chapter guys! Sit back and enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter VII: Of Germans and Gauls**

A summer storm arrived the next day, further blackening the mood of the Fourth Centuria. Dove's punishment had put them in line, but his pained howls and bloody bandages were a constant reminder that though Ruby was a former comrade, she was still their Centurion. The lashing rain did not relieve their unease, riddling the roads with puddles and muddy trenches.

The storms did not let up for an entire week. Each night, Ruby met with Weiss, learning her letters and honing her leadership skills. It was a trying time for her, as she lingered on Dove's punishment, the guilt on her shoulders heavy and obdurate. As she'd hoped, there were no more incidents, and Cardin's stares ended. Yang had done her best to reassure her, which Ruby appreciated immensely. However, even her gregarious older sister had been subdued since the maelstroms began.

On the tenth day after the battle, the worst of the storms ended, leaving the sky grey and overcast, but free of rain. Ruby hopped over a puddle, desperate not to wet her feet once more. These days, her feet had been so cold and clammy, it often felt as though they were about to rot away. Flavia however, did not care, tromping through the puddle and splashing water about her feet. Following the signifer, Yang skipped over the water. She yawned.

At midday, the Fourth Centuria cleared the latest patch of woods, the road stretching across open hills and grassland, and lessening the load on Ruby's burdened mind.

"Another week or so, and we'll be in Lugdunum." Yang sighed wistfully, kicking away a stone.

"Truly? We haven't been able to make good progress lately." Flavia said. "It will be at least three weeks before we see its walls."

"I just wanna see the sun again." Ruby said, stretching her neck. "Blake, water please." The faunus handed it to her, trudging in step with her master. It was old rainwater, stale and earthy, but it served its purpose.

"We're being watched." Blake hissed. Ruby spit out her water.

"Where?" Blake pointed, her finger resting upon a single rider that stood atop a great hill. The distance was too great to make out details, but it set Ruby's mind ablaze. _Should I ready the Centuria? It could be an enemy vanguard, or it could just be a local…_

The rider descended the hill, rapidly approaching the column. Ruby's hand tightened around the hilt of her gladius, eyes fixed ahead.

"She appears to be roman." Blake said.

"How can you be sure?" Ruby asked. The rider swung around, now parallel with the legion.

"AAAAAVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEE IIIIIIMMMMMMMPPPEEEEEEEEERRRRATTTOOOORRRR!" _Ah. Definitely roman_. Even at a distance, Ruby could hear the horse's thundering hooves as it raced nearer. Then the woman –it was assuredly a woman; her voice brokered no argument – stood upon her horse, causing Ruby and her command staff's collective jaws to drop.

"GREETINGS, LEGIO PHARUS, TO GAUL PROPER!" She bellowed, hands on her hips. Waving to the marching men, braided orange hair spilled out from underneath an officer's helm. Then, suddenly, her men crested a hill, a veritable tide of horse that spilled over onto the grass, rushing to catch their leader. The grim and dour pallor that had settled over the Legio Pharus died away, crushed under the hooves of the gallic auxiliaries.

Men were whooping and shouting, cheering on their mounted allies.

"ONWARDS, MEN!" The woman cried. "TO HONOR AND GLORY!" Still standing on her horse, she pointed north, posing heroically. Ruby laughed, watching the woman storm down the column, accosting the soldiers with patriotic shouts as they marched along. Her sister nudged her.

"That woman is insane." Yang said, beaming. "And a damn impressive rider." The bulk of the heavy horse rode past, shaking the earth with the weight of their passage. Ruby gave a low whistle.

"Thank the gods they're on our side." She murmured. Flavia nodded, Consul Hirtus bobbing up and down. The auxiliaries were in full armor, heavy mail and _hastae _accompanying their oval shields, which bore frightening gallic livery. Long swords hung at their waist, slapping against their saddles as they flew past.

Yang bellowed a greeting at the riders, who hefted their spears in response, whistling and hooting at the golden-headed beauty. Ruby laughed again, hiding a wide grin behind her hand. This one woman had certainly improved morale.

Some of her men had stopped to wave at the cavalry. She sighed. Back to being Centurion.

"Enough lollygagging! Pick it up, Fourth Centuria! You can rest later!" She ordered. Her men obliged, grudgingly hoisting their sarcinas once more. Ruby couldn't blame them, she wanted nothing more than to stop and meet with the latest addition to the Legio Pharus.

The last of the horsemen rode past, hammering their hastae against their shields. And for a second, the sun shone through the clouds.

* * *

True to Cinder's word, the two envoys were exactly where she'd said they be. It had only been a matter of patience. Emerald tensed, pulling her bowstring tight. Her lime-green hair was streaked with mud and leaves, mocha skin blending in with the dark wood about her.

Mercury was similarly camouflaged, a small smirk playing across his face. _Smug ass_. She thought. The roman envoys were watchful and wary of their surroundings, but had no hope of spotting their germanic hunters. Their horses' hooves met dirt, crossing the rickety bridge across the Rhodanus River.

That was the signal. With a small hiss of wood on wood, they loosed, grey fletching brushing against Emerald's cheek. The romans gave no sound as they toppled from their horses, arrows jutting from their eyes.

Mercury darted forward, reining in the horses, calming them while their masters died. Emerald kept watch as her partner steered the envoys into the woods, out of sight for any passing travelers. Pulling the corpses off their saddles, one of the envoys, a puma faunus with thick black hair and tusks, jerked and kicked on the forest floor. Emerald drew her curved knives, ready to open his throat. Mercury laughed at her.

"I don't think the corpse will be any more trouble."

"You saw him move." She snapped. He shrugged.

"They tend to twitch around if you shoot 'em in the head." Emerald's red eyes narrowed, examining the body. True enough, besides some final jerks, the roman was well and truly dead. She sheathed her daggers and hauled the smaller body over to the river.

"So how's it feel to finally kill romans?" Mercury asked, still smiling his infernal smile.

"Good." Mercury's tribe had rescued her when she was six, spiriting the former syrian slave away from a sure death in the bowels of a silver mine during a raid. They'd given her a new name and a new purpose, one she'd started to fulfill today.

"Now if you could stop staring at faeries and help me with the bodies, that would be _great_."

"Don't try your luck." She said, obeying despite her annoyance. Stripping the envoys of their tunics, they dismembered the bodies and threw them in the river before burying the heads in a deep pit. They washed themselves in the river, along with their new tunics. Their aim had been true, and there was little to cleanse.

"I hate this." Emerald said, slipping on the roman garb. "Give me furs any day over these rough-spun shifts."

"Don't let Cinder hear you complaining."

"All the way from Sueba?" She snorted. "Besides, I'm not complaining. I wouldn't trade places with anyone in the tribe."

"'I hate this' sounds like bellyaching to me." Mercury said. Emerald scoffed, buckling on the envoy's belt.

"Dressing like these animals pains me, but it's necessary. You remember your lessons?"

"Do I look like a simpleton?" Mercury asked.

"If you didn't, I wouldn't have asked." She said.

"If I had forgotten, I would have certainly brought it up in the month we spent squatting here." He snapped. Emerald sighed, satisfied.

"Good. And don't forget them. I didn't spend twelve years teaching my adopted brother latin for naught."

"And what twelve years they were." He said, switching to latin to prove his point.

"Don't get snippy." Emerald said, replying in kind. They were almost ready. Now clad in the envoys' uniforms they were, by all appearances, soldiers of the Legio III Germanica. Mercury gave a low whistle as he unsheathed his new gladius.

"That's some nice steel. Free too." He threw Emerald a wink. She rolled her eyes.

"Where's the message they bore?" Mercury hoisted the scroll, smiling. He tore it to shreds before casting the pieces into the river.

"Here's the replacement." Emerald said, drawing the capped scroll from their travel packs.

"Let's get moving." He said. She paused, her bow in hand. "Leave it. For now, we are no longer Cherusci." Huffing, she threw it in the river, and spun on her heel before she could watch it disappear.

Mounting the horses, they left the woods to rejoin the road. Emerald picked through the saddlebags, finding armor and enough provisions to last them a week. Not able to resist, she tore off a few bites of hard bread, savoring the taste of something other than red meat and berries.

"That has to last us awhile, you know."

"I am well aware." He never missed an opportunity to hound her about one thing or another. She was eternally grateful to his family for rescuing her and raising her as a proper Cherusci, but Mercury could be insufferable. "A few bites will do no one any harm."

They rode in silence for a time. After a few hours of endless trees, they came upon a fork in the road.

"Do you hear something?" Emerald shook her head.

"Riders." Mercury hissed. Then, she heard them, a storm of hooves. "Should we scatter?"

"We are romans now. Remember their arrogance. We own these lands." Mercury nodded, his grey hair rustling under his new helmet.

"Your latin is still better. Would you mind dealing with them?" Emerald sighed. Just like Mercury to pass off laziness as practicality. The riders came into view, about thirty men, soldiers all. At their head rode their leader, a young faunus man with impossibly blond hair.

"Ave!" She called out to them, raising her fist.

"Ave!" The leader responded. He gave Emerald a ready grin. "What brings you out in this region of Gallia?" His eyes were the color of rain-laden clouds, and they seemed to dance underneath his white-blond brows.

"We are envoys of General Ironwood, bearing a message bound for General Ozpin of Legio Pharus. And you, soldier?"

"We are the Second Exploratores Detachment of the self-same Legion." The man reached her, pulling his horse alongside her own. A bag at his hip rang with coin, try as he might to muffle it by stuffing it with cloth. Emerald approached him and shook his hand, swiping the roman's purse while she flashed him her most brilliant smile. Within the Cherusci, she was renowned for her nimble fingers. "I am Decurio Sun." He said, not noticing his missing money.

"Well met, Decurio. I am Emerald, and this is my _adjutant_ Mercury." Mercury shot her a dirty look. _That's what you get for being lazy!_ "We must make haste, we carry news of great importance."

"I concur. A few of my scouts were injured in a clash with brigands, and I fear for their well-being."

"Asclepius grant them wellness." Emerald said, secretly wishing their wounds would fester and boil. Sun nodded in thanks, his eyes shifting over his band of scouts.

"Will you let us accompany you?" He asked, patting the flank of his great grey courser. "I fear the roads aren't as safe as they once were." Mercury shot her a contemptuous sneer, but she ignored him.

"A kind offer." She said, wearing a false yet generous smile. "Very well. Lead on, Decurio Sun." _The romans bought our ruse without a single reservation_. _Traveling with them should pose no further danger, _she thought. Watching Mercury writhe in annoyance was an additional blessing. All things considered, the chance encounter could have been far worse. Once Sun had gathered his men and rode ahead, she examined the purse she'd stolen. Typical roman, carrying his wealth around with nary a care in the world.

Her haughty thoughts died when she examined the coin. It was one of Cinder's. Fear gripped her heart as she turned it over in her hands.

_Just who are these men?_

* * *

Ren took a deep breath.

"Don't be nervous, Ren! You'll be fine!" Garbed in fine togas, the commanders of the gallic auxiliaries stood outside General Ozpin's tent, ready to meet their new commander. He gave Nora a smile in thanks.

Arm in arm, they entered the tent. Greeting them was a feast, attended by the upper echelon of the Legio Pharus' command. Legatus Ozpin sat at the head of a long table, flanked by his tribunes and their officers.

Nora saw none of this of course, instead choosing to drool over the mountains of food presented. Stuffed capon sat in the center of the table, surrounded by olives and lettuce, accompanied by a ring of emmer bread that flanked a bowl of rich _garum_. A basket of fruit sat nearest to the two young commanders, filled with every color of plump delicacies.

Ren nudged her.

"Oh right!"

"Ave, Ozpin Legatus!" They cried in unison, saluting.

"Ave, honorable Auxiliaries. I must say I preferred your earlier introduction this afternoon, my Lady." Nora beamed, giving the General a steep bow, her long braids spilling over her face.

"I apologize for my wife's... eccentricities." Ren offered with a smile, choosing his words with care.

"No need." Ozpin said, dismissing the apology. "The Legion as a whole benefitted from the levity. Come, be seated, eat." Nora wasted no time obeying, settling into a couch and gorging herself on the capon. Chuckling, Ozpin turned to Ren. "I _am_ curious as to why you are here, Ren Liennus, and not your honored father."

"My father has fallen ill, and could not attend his posting."

"A great shame. Your father helped Caesar conquer the very land we sit upon." Ren nodded in humility and gratitude. After aiding Caesar in his conquests, Shen Liennus had settled in gaul, founding colonies and towns aplenty. "And your wife is accompanying you? Ren smiled, accepting a cup of wine from a slave.

"She was very insistent that she join me."

"Very!" Nora added, her mouth stuffed with food.

"And with my wife comes one hundred additional riders, sworn shields of the Valkyrie tribe. I am sure they will be useful in the future." A white haired tribune coughed, hammering at her chest.

"We cannot afford to pay a hundred more cavalrymen!" She cried.

"I agree with Tribune Schnee." A blond-haired sentor said from her place at Ozpin's side. "Horses and their riders don't come cheap!"

"Oh unca Audix doesn't want your money!" Nora interrupted. "They'll care for their own horses too. They just heard I was going to war, and they wanted in!" Ren grinned. The union between himself and Nora was a peace offering between the roman conquerors and their gallic subjects. However, the young officers had been friends since they were swaddling babes, playing and talking while their fathers hammered out treaties and trade contacts.

The Valkyrie tribe of central gaul were staunch warriors, and were roman allies even when Vercingetorix called his banners. They loved to fight, and were fierce riders, always thirsting for renown among their neighboring tribes. When Ren announced his intentions to take his father's place, Nora had _squealed_ with glee.

"That's... awfully generous of them." Another tribune said. At his side was none other than Pyrrha Nikos, her green eyes aglow. Stories of her exploits had even managed to reach deep within the forested heart of gaul.

"Ah, my apologies." Ozpin said. "I've completely forgotten my manners. Introductions are in order. You know of me, but this is my second-in-command, Senator Glynda Goodwych." The woman nodded. My tribunes are Weiss Schnee, Petraues Port, Faustinia Strabo, Quintus Paullus, and finally, Jaune Arc. He will be your commanding officer for the duration of your service." Ren nodded, suppressing a grin as the young tribune nearly choked on his wine. Jaune coughed and spluttered, while Pyrrha slapped his back, face strained with worry.

"Me?" Jaune asked.

"Of course." Ozpin answered. Weiss sniffed, looking away while she chewed on a bone that had long ago shed the last of its meat. The tribune named Faustinia gave her a leering grin, which only worsened her gnawing.

"I…" His head hung low, resigned. "Very well, sir."

"Now that has been taken care of, let us enjoy our meal." He raised his cup. "To Rome, and the Legio Pharus!"

"To Rome, and the Legio Pharus!" They echoed.

* * *

Ren awoke a few hours past midnight, pink eyes opening groggily. The cot was cold. He sighed. _Where has she gone off to now? _Their first night as a part of the legion, and she'd disappeared. Rising from the simple bedding, he shuffled over to his discarded clothes. Throwing on his loincloth, he pulled aside the tent flap.

She hadn't gone far. She was sitting alone in her fur-lined shift, staring up at the night sky. The stars tonight were stunning, shining bright upon the legion. Campfires burned below them, but most of the legionaries slept in their tents blind to the beautiful night that befell them.

"Nora?"

"Good evening, Ren!" She said, giving him a wide smile. He yawned, rubbing at his half-lidded eyes.

"You're not in bed."

"I couldn't sleep." She jumped up to embrace him, beaming as she settled her head on his chest. "It's just so exciting!" She spun in his arms, resting her wrist on her forehead and giving him a histrionic sigh. "Truly, I may faint."

"At least you'd sleep." Ren said. Nora giggled. Her heart was far too bold and brash for fainting.

"I mean, I'll miss our nice fancy villa, but come on! Weeks of riding across an unknown frontier… seeing all of Gaul and Germania! We can see things no one else has seen before! And when we meet the enemy in battle… hurrah!" She cried, throwing a fist in the air. Her blue eyes were on fire, alight with glee. "It'll be just like our dads' wars all over again!" Ren smiled, nuzzling Nora.

"I see my barbarian wife still thirsts for blood." Nora leapt forward, posing.

"But of course! When we ride forth, _all_ enemies of Rome shall quake in their boots!" She announced, cackling. Looking up at her, Ren couldn't help but share her enthusiasm. She was his light, his life and luster. After four years of marriage and fourteen years of friendship, he couldn't think of someone else he'd rather have at his side on the battlefield. He yawned once more. Standing, he took Nora's hand in his own. "Aren't you excited?"

"I am." An eyebrow arched skywards. "I am! I just think our 'conquest of the known world' will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Aww, but I want to conquer _now_!" She pouted.

"Sleep is also important. I think it'd be best if we were well rested for tomorrow." Ren suggested. Nora sighed, following him into their tent. The night disappeared behind them with a small rustling of canvas, sealing them within the warmth of their temporary home.

"But I'm not tired…"

"I am." He replied, once again slipping into the cot's inviting furs. Nora grinned. With a quick shrug of her shoulders, her shift fell to a pile at her feet.

"I'm not." Her lips met his, and Ren felt his fatigue disappear.

* * *

**A/N: They did the sex. :D**

**So, thoughts everyone? I really, really enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you guys did too. I actually lied last chapter, we get four 'new' RWBY characters, and two new OCs (the tribunes).**

**Sorry again for the pace of updates with this one. If you guys really like this story, leave a review! I'll be more motivated to work on it! ;)**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Asclepius: The roman god of healing, another deity appropriated from the greeks.**

**Garum_: _A fish-paste condiment that was enormously popular in Roman times. It was made by laying out the daily catch according to the type and part of the fish, allowing garum-makers to pick the exact ingredients they wanted. Then, the selected fish parts were then macerated in salt, and cured in the sun for one to three months. The mixture fermented and liquefied in the dry warmth, with the salt keeping it from rotting. The actual garum was the clear liquid that formed on the top, and was skimmed off with a fine strainer inserted into a fermenting vessel. Icky.**

**Vercingetorix: A powerful gallic king that was Julius Caeser's final obstacle during the conquest of Gaul. He was eventually defeated in the Battle of Alesia.**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**How old and Ren and Nora?: They are the same age as Jaune, Pyrrha, Ruby, and Weiss: eighteen.**

**Why are Ren and Nora married****?: This is an easy one (because best ship), but it requires a little explaining. I've tried to keep all the RWBY characters somewhat in line with their canon counterparts, which meant making Ren and Nora childhood friends. I also really wanted Nora to be gallic, since it fits her enthusiastic, blood-knight personality. Therefore, since Ren has airs of nobility, the only way they could realistically be childhood friends was if they were hangers-on in their father's respective courts, best buds since they were wee little babs. Hopefully this was adequately explained in the story.**

**Um... if they're eighteen does that mean...?: Yes, they got married when they were fourteen. Welcome to ancient times, people. If you think that's bad, know that normally, a roman woman would have been married off to a middle-aged man... when she was _twelve_.**

**Loyalty of the Valkyries: Not wholly unrealistic. Although they were few in number, some gallic tribes were loyal to Rome, even during the conquest.**

**Does Nora have a warhammer?: Nope. They weren't invented yet, since they were built to combat plated armor, which was not in wide circulation during the time of the story.**

**Nora's riding skills: Historically accurate. Many gallic riders were show-boats.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**OBSERVER01: Well.. not wholly inaccurate! Roman gods were greedy motherfuckers.**

**metimesthree: Glad you enjoyed it!**

**George Oswald Dannyson: Thanks for the feedback! I'll try to polish it up when I get the chance. Thanks for being a fan!**

**Natural Born Flamer: So happy you're enjoying it! :D**

**Yoshtar: I'm glad the tone's coming across well! I worked hard on keeping it balanced. :) Also, good guess! :D**

**Ocomfv: Agreed. Poor Ruby, and poor Dove! I'm happy it seems to have gone over quite well (or at least, as well as it could).**

**Via: I'm pumped you're enjoying yourself! While this chapter may have led you to the contrary, there will be consequences for Ruby's harsh punishment, but that will all come in due time.**

**Gafgar: Wow, thank you so much for your awesome reviews! Pyrrha wearing a toga was no accident. She's the only greek in a camp full of romans, and while she's very famous, many officers (Weiss included) don't like having her whispering in the ear of a very powerful Tribune. She needs to dress and act like the romans to avoid conflict where she can. Also, she wants Jaune-kouhai to notice her. And very good point about crucifixion. I guess it makes sense that they were nailed then, since Ozpin found the whole crucifixion thing distasteful. Thanks for being a fan!**

* * *

**Whoo! Thanks so much for the reviews! Keep 'em coming, please! I really enjoy writing this story, but I can't justify putting too much time into it if people aren't reading it!**

**Up next: TROUBLE WITH THE TRIBUNES!**


	8. With a Will of Iron

**A/N: *Shamefully updates after an unannounced hiatus***

**Hope you enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter IIX: With a Will of Iron**

Another few weeks of marching brought Lugdunum within view, cresting the top of a steep and distant hill. Alas, they were not within the city just yet. Tomorrow would bring the Legio Pharus through its gates, but for tonight, Ruby was once again in Weiss' tent, learning her letters.

"You've been doing very well, Ruby. I'd like you to try this one." Withdrawing a book from within a chest, she set it before Ruby. Bound in leather, the cover bore but a single word. She ran her hand down the cover, savoring the touch.

"You have… a book?" Weiss grinned, her hands on her hips.

"Of course! They're expensive, but worth every denarii. My father has gifted me several." Ruby examined the cover.

"The… Aeneid?"

"Very good. There are three books in existence that contain this poem, and this is one of them." Ruby's jaw fell open, much to Weiss' amusement. "Now, let's see how you do with the first page." Opening the book, Ruby gasped.

"Is this… parchment?"

"Only the finest you'll find outside of Rome." Weiss said. _Nobility_. Ruby thought with a sigh. _What would it be like not living meal-to-meal? Ordering books, having slaves, and eating fine food?_ Her head shook, dismissing the thought. _Weiss is being very kind teaching me all these things._ She reminded herself. The tribune stared at her with her ice-blue eyes, eager to have her pupil begin. _And, unless I'm mistaken, I think she's enjoying it_.

Her eyes scanned the ink (_INK_!) that marked the first page. Letters had come to her without excessive difficulty, as Weiss had been merciless in drilling her.

"The first two lines please." Her finger scanning under the words, she began.

"A-arma… virumque cano, Tro…Troiae que-"

"Qui." Weiss offered. Ruby nodded.

"Qui primus ab oris I-Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit." She finished strong, the words flowing past her lips in a hurried rush. She gave Weiss a glowing smile, and she returned it.

"Very good. Continue."

"Litora, multum-" Shouting outside drew Ruby's attention away from her reading. It was Pyrrha and Jaune, at their training once more. Almost every night, they'd been outside their tent, hefting weights or sparring. Weiss glowered. Rarely had they made such a racket.

"Ignore them. Continue." Ruby nodded.

"Ille et t-t-terris." It was no use. With the shouting, the words became too difficult to decipher. "I-I'm sorry Weiss. I'm not good enough at reading to block them out." Weiss sighed.

"I know. Just give it one more effort." Resuming from her place, Ruby's finger hovered underneath a particularly difficult construction.

"I-I… iac… iactus?"

"Iactatus." Weiss corrected, now frowning.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." The white-haired tribune waved her apology away.

"It is not your fault." She stood, smoothing out her tunic. "I must have words with Jaune. Your studies are no less important than his. Come." Setting the book down with reverential awe, Ruby followed the officer.

Weiss stormed down the small hill towards the center of the Tribune's camp. They had constructed a crude practice ring there, surrounded by torches that fought against the encroaching night. Jaune and Pyrrha danced within it, training weapons in hand. The auxiliary commanders were watching, sharing wine and cheese while they watched their superiors.

"Jaune Arc!"

Jaune jumped at Weiss' words, earning himself a slap on the shoulder from Pyrrha's training sword.

"Ouch! Oh, uh, salve Weiss!" He said, rubbing the back of his head. "What can I help you with?"

"You and Pyrrha are shouting and grunting while I'm trying to teach my pupil Centurion Rose here," she said, placing a hand on Ruby's shoulders, "her letters!"

At once, the eyes of many powerful people were paring her apart. Swallowing nervously, Ruby saluted all of them, unsure of what else to do. The orange-haired gallic officer giggled, crying out to her with a vigorous wave.

"Salve!" She cried.

"Uh… salvete." She said, head bowing. Weiss shot the auxiliaries a nasty look before rounding once more on her fellow tribune.

"If you could desist in your training for _one night_, I would greatly appreciate it!" Jaune sighed, sticking his practice sword in the ground.

"I'm sorry Weiss, I'll-" Pyrrha cut him off, placing her hand on his arm. "Pyrrha?" The greek woman turned to face her, a wide smile on her face. Sweat beaded her forehead, and a metal headdress bound her matted red hair tight. She gave Weiss a polite bow.

"Our apologies, Tribune Schnee. I've been very ardent in teaching Jaune the ways of a warrior. Not everyone is blessed with talent like ourselves. He has a long road ahead of him, but he's coming along magnificently." Jaune flushed, kicking at the dirt. "Perhaps Centurion Rose could learn her letters elsewhere? We are in the middle of some very productive work."

Weiss' mouth opened and closed, unable to make sense of the words that reached her ears. _Uh-oh_. Ruby thought, now terrified. _What on Earth is Pyrrha doing?! _Jaune stepped forward between the two women.

"No matter, we can find somewhere else to practice, right?" Pyrrha shook her head sadly.

"There's very little room elsewhere in the camp. I'm afraid here is the only place we can be. But as to learning letters…" She shrugged. "That is not a space-demanding activity." Ruby's eyes shot over to Weiss. She was fuming, anger filling her cheeks with a red fury.

"Jaune… keep your greek _pet_ in line."

Silence.

_Oh gods, please, get me __**out**__ of here. _Ruby prayed, eyes closed to the horror about to unfold before her.

"Pet?" Pyrrha hissed. Jaune kept playing peacekeeper, hands now spread wide to keep the women apart.

"I'm sure she didn't mean-"

"Oh, I meant it!" Weiss cried, storming forward. "Nipping at his heels like a hunting hound! I expected more from the legendary Pyrrha Nikos! Training, _ha_! Is that what you do when you aren't fucking like rabbits?" A hunk of cheese that the gallic officer was eating slipped from her fingers, clattering to the plate and echoing across the training yard. Pyrrha scoffed.

"I see the noble house of Schnee has fallen low enough so that its sharpest fangs are the words of its soft and spoiled heirs."

"I am a Daughter of Mara!" She spat. "If you truly think so little of me, I suggest we spar. I'm sure I will put you in your proper place, _barbarian_!"

"Very well." Pyrrha answered. "The winner shall be able to teach their pupil however… and _wherever_ they choose." She stuck her arm forward, emerald eyes burning beneath a furrowed brow.

"An acceptable wager." Weiss said, taking the offered arm with as little grace as possible.

"CAT FIIIIIIIIIGHT!" The gaul bellowed, leaping up from her seat, fists braced with glee. Her companion pulled her back into her seat, face hidden behind his hand.

Turning on her heel, Weiss marched back into her tent.

"Marble! Where are you, you worthless man? Bring me my armor!" Ruby followed tentatively, jumping when a heavy hand fell across her shoulder.

"For a cold-hearted bitch, our Lady does have a fiery temper, does she not?" Looking up, she saw the wrinkled, grinning face of Albus.

"You frightened me, Albus."

"I'm a frightening man." He said amicably. "Lady Schnee has gone and done it again, hasn't she?"

"Again?" Ruby asked in a small voice. He sighed, watching Weiss yell at Marble as he tried to strap her armor on.

"From a very young age, my Lady has sought conflict and challenges at every turn. It's molded her into the person you know today. And despite all the bitter rage she holds within her, it stems from a noble place." He yawned. "Personally, I hope Lady Nikos beats her into a paste. Everyone could use a good humbling now and then, none more so then our Lady."

"I heard that, you old goat!" Weiss snapped. "Any more traitorous outbursts like that, and I'll have you flogged!"

"No you won't." Albus said. "This old goat's going to sleep. Try not to break anything." Ruby swallowed nervously as Marble made the final preparations. She'd heard stories about Pyrrha whenever she'd gone into the city, exploits of the warrior ran like wildfire throughout the greek slaves in Rome. _Weiss is either very brave, or very foolish._

* * *

"Pyrrha, what have you done?" Jaune asked. "Challenging Weiss like that… have you gone mad?" Do you know what she could have done?!" Pyrrha ignored him, buckling on her greaves. "She could have you flogged, or… or worse! She's a tribune, you know!" Her red hair disappeared underneath her Corinthian helm.

"As are you."

"So-"

"So she would not risk insulting you by issuing me a punishment. In addition, due to my reputation, having me whipped would cast aspersions on herself. As an accomplished warrior in her own right, I provoked her into a fight."

"Why?" Jaune handed her a wooden training spear, which she accepted readily.

"I could not stand idly by while she orders you about." Accepting her bronze-rimmed shield, her eyes ran over the symbol etched upon it: a spear with a leaf-blade head, red against a black field. "She is not your superior. I know you harbor… something for her, but she will not respect you for being obeisant." Jaune sighed. She was right (of course) but it was too late to stand up for himself now.

"Pyrrha, you don't have to do this."

"You're right. I _want_ to do this."

Weiss left her tent, garbed in her armor. Sparring didn't involve more than training weapons, but the two women took every precaution to avoid injury. Centurion Rose trailed behind her, pushing her fingers together. The tribune bore a scutum on her left forearm, a training sword in her right.

"Well, for what it's worth, thanks." Jaune said, resting his hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. The skin below his fingers warmed considerably, but Pyrrha only nodded.

"I am your friend and servant. I would do no less."

* * *

Ruby's silver eyes darted between the combatants. She couldn't help but feel responsible, even though the issue was only tangentially related to her. The orange-haired officer waved her over while Pyrrha and Weiss discussed rules.

She gave a steep bow to the two auxiliaries.

"Look at her Ren!" The woman said, beaming. "She's _terrified_. Come now, that's enough of that! I'm Nora, and this is my husband, Ren." The man with the pink stripe in his hair nodded in welcome. "Come, sit, have some wine and enjoy the show!"

She obeyed. _This woman is a louder version of Yang_, she realized, staring at her feet while she babbled at Ruby. Filling a goblet with dark red wine, she handed it to Ruby, who stared at the liquid. She'd had wine only twice in her life.

"Go on!" Nora said. She sipped at it, the taste rich and filling.

"I… thank you… Nora. Is it acceptable that I call you Nora, Ma'am?"

"But of course!" She cried, winking at the Centurion. Ren chuckled. "I'm not one for formality, but fancy over here is." She said, punching Ren's shoulder. "He likes to stay all quiet and reserved." The officer grinned as her antics, rubbing his shoulder.

"Thank you for the wine and hospitality." Ruby managed.

"It's the least we could do for arranging this spectacle!" She replied, pointing at Pyrrha and Weiss. "Even we savage few in Gaul have heard of Pyrrha Nikos! Having her spar against a Daughter of Mara…" Her eyes glowed with excitement. "It'll be interesting to see!"

The combatants saluted each other, and stalked to the edge of the ring.

"It is agreed: the match will end only after defeat is conceded." Jaune said, now resigned to the battle. "No points, no touches are considered valid, as per the request of Tribune Schnee." His eyes searched the two women. He swallowed, pulling at the neck of his tunic. "Begin!"

They did not meet immediately. Pyrrha braced her shield, locking her spear in place. Weiss stepped forward, ice-blue eyes peering over the rim of her shield. Nora was on the edge of her seat, fists clenched and eager, beaming.

Like lightning, Pyrrha launched forward, her spear lunging for Weiss. Her spear glanced off her shield. It happened so fast, Ruby's mouth fell open. The shields met, and the women struggled against each other. Weiss gave a cry, her wooden gladius hammering off Pyrrha's round shield. Spinning, she disengaged, bringing the sword around to strike her neck. The Greek woman flattened, and the attack only rustled her horsehair plume. Lashing out with a kick, she recovered, forcing Weiss on the defensive. Her spearhead rang against the scutum, prying for weaknesses. Weiss battered aside her next strike, pushing within range of the spear.

They circled each other, eyes locked.

Weiss made the next strike, pushing forward. Their shields met, again and again. The brass center of her scutum rang against Pyrrha's circular hoplon. Hammering at the stalwart defense, Weiss knocked her opponents shield away, bringing her sword down on Pyrrha's collarbone. Weiss grinned.

Pyrrha grunted, her armor deflecting away the worst of the pain. Her spear swung around when Weiss pressed her advantage, clashing against the side of her helmet.

"Gah!" She spat, stumbling back. Pyrrha dashed forward, a wordless cry echoing across the yard. Rolling aside, Weiss avoided the attack. She sprung to her feet, just in time to deflect the darting spear.

Ruby was in awe of the spectacle before her. They traded more blows, unyielding in their advances, staunch in their defenses. They were not warriors, nor even soldiers. Such terms seemed crude, pale representations of their battle.

They were _artists_. Each move was practiced and graceful, each thrust and parry necessary, perfect.

Then Weiss shifted the balance. Feinting to the right with her gladius Pyrrha moved to block the strike, but it never landed. Spinning on her heel, Weiss crashed into the unbalanced greek woman, throwing them to the mud. Pyrrha escaped from the entanglement, her arm slipping out from the leather straps of her hoplon. Weiss scrambled to her feet, beaming.

She had the advantage. Even Ruby knew that. Shields were the life and death of infantry. That was the purpose the pilum served, after all. Without a shield, a soldier is defenseless.

Pyrrha seemed undeterred, spinning the spear around like a baton, a deadly whirling blur. Weiss' smile twitched. She pressed forward, and met an unbound Pyrrha. Blows rained upon her scutum, a maelstrom of strikes that caused Weiss to start a step-wise retreat.

How someone moved like that was completely beyond Ruby. Each attack flowed into the next, a river of sweating muscle that harried her opponent. Jaune's jaw fell open.

Pyrrha gave a cry, thrusting her spear into a gap in Weiss' defenses. It slipped over her shield, narrowly missing her neck. Using the spear like a lever, she wrenched her shield away. With a resounding cry, her helm smashed against Weiss', stumbling the tribune. Her scutum clattered to the earth, forgotten.

Ruby swallowed. Weiss is finished, now that Pyrrha can monopolize on her better range...

But Weiss did not falter. Instead, she rushed forward, screaming a war cry. Pyrrha's spear sailed for her chest, but she spun out of its way, the weapons gliding off each other. The greek woman used her height to her advantage, crashing into Weiss with her heavier gear and corded muscles.

She shrugged the blow off, dodging the follow-up strike. Then, Weiss did the unthinkable. She spread her hands wide, leaving her chest exposed. Pyrrha's eyes narrowed behind her helm. It was obviously a trap, but she could not decipher its true nature.

A hesitant strike at Weiss' forehead sprung it. Weiss leaned into the attack, grabbing the spear as she fell forward, sinking its head into the dirt. Her hob-nailed sandals spun through the air, and shattered the weapon in Pyrrha's hands.

Before she could press the advantage, Pyrrha lunged forward, tackling the tribune into the mud. Her gladius spun away and her chinstrap came undone, her helmet sailing through the air.

"Weiss…" Ruby whispered.

Her knees pinning Weiss' arms to the mud, Pyrrha raised her hand to strike.

"Yield, Roman!"

"Never!" Weiss spat. Her leg shot upwards, slamming into the back of Pyrrha's helmet. She also lost her helm, and her long red hair spilled out, matted and sweat-stained. Weiss hopped to her feet, hunched low to the ground. A boxing stance.

Pyrrha responded in kind, stooping down to keep herself rooted on the earth. They circled once more, panting. At this point, it would be fair to call a draw. But Ruby realized that neither would back down. She wasn't even sure a draw crossed their minds. They had separated themselves from their surroundings, falling into a battle-trance.

Weiss struck first, her fists swinging towards her opponent. Pyrrha dodged the blow, wrapping her arms around the tribune and knocking her to the floor. She wrestled with her opponent, trying to subdue her. It was no use. Weiss wrenched an arm free and drove a fist into her unprotected side.

Ruby winced as Pyrrha cried out in pain, clutching at her flank. Weiss righted herself, but Pyrrha punched her in the face, a blow that sent her sprawling. She tried once more to trap Weiss, but earned a foot in her gut, driving past the armor and stealing her breath from her lungs.

Breathing hard, Weiss advanced, crawling forward. Her fist fell forward, but Pyrrha caught it, gasping and reeling from the last attack. Pyrrha head-butted Weiss, grimacing as the blow landed. While Weiss was stunned, Pyrrha folded her into a pin, an arm around her neck and her body holding her arms tight.

"Submit!" She cried. Weiss spat, her mouth full of dirt.

"Never!" Pyrrha smashed her head against the ground. Ruby was aghast.

"SUBMIT!"

"You'll have to kill me before I say the words!" The arm around her neck tightened, choking the life from Weiss. She gurgled and rasped, feebly clawing at the arm.

"PYRRHA!" Jaune cried, bursting forward into the ring. Ruby followed him, eyes wide with fear. Jaune pulled Pyrrha off Weiss. She cried out in protest, arms swinging wildly. "Pyrrha! Pyrrha, it's me!" She stiffened, realizing who held her tight.

"Jaune?" She said in a weak, scared voice.

Ruby fell to her knees, skidding across the mud and coming to rest at Weiss' side.

"Weiss, Weiss are you ok?" Weiss spluttered, hands on her neck as she fought for breath.

"I'll… I'll live."

"Oh gods, I am so sorry." Pyrrha said, still holding Jaune. "I… don't know what came over me." Weiss just laughed. A bubbling, pure laugh, one made hoarse by her exertion. Ruby stared at her, worried she'd gone mad.

"Gods Pyrrha, don't apologize! That was brilliant!" Weiss said. Despite herself, Pyrrha gave a surprised chuckle at the tribune's sudden shift in mood. "That was the best fight I've had in _years_!"

"I… couldn't agree more." The greek woman mumbled. Weiss struggled to her feet, stumbling over to her opponent. She extended her arm for a handshake.

"I-I understand what happened. We got caught up." Weiss said. Pyrrha met the peace offering, shaking her hand firmly, her other arm around Jaune's neck.

"We should do that again. Maybe with stricter rules."

"I agree. I'm afraid I'm spent for tonight, however. Ruby, would you help me to my tent? I find myself a bit dazed." Ruby obeyed, taking Weiss' arm over her shoulders, and helping her along. Albus was sitting outside the tent, smoking something from a long wooden pipe.

He didn't say anything as they stumbled past. He just looked sad.

* * *

**A/N: This is why we have rules for sparring, people. Anyway,**** fun chapter! :D Despite the 'happy' conclusion, I don't think Weiss and Pyrrha will be seeing eye-to-eye for a while.**

**So sorry again about the delay. I hope this chapter made up for it! Please, please, _please_ let me know what you thought!**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Hoplon: A heavy rounded shield wrought from wood. Occaisonally covered with a sheet of brass (that usually just covered the edge).**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Use of the Phrase 'Cat Fight': I'm like 80% sure the phrase being used to describe two women fighting did not exist in the year 17 BC, but hell, I'm just gonna roll with it. It fit Nora's outburst too well! It's also (for me at least) not a stretch to imagine Romans using the term with the same meaning.**

**Pyrrha's Challenge: Reasons are stated in the story.**

**Sparring: A very common practice, especially among the legions as a method to reinforce training.**

**Books: This one I'm not 100% on. I'm fairly certain they existed at this point in history, but I can't say for sure. I know for damn sure a copy of the Aeneid would be rare as shit though, which I tried to portray here!**

**Ruby's surprise about ink: Most writing in Roman times was chiseled out of stone, on re-usable wax tablets, or painted. For Ruby (a farm-girl), she's probably only heard of ink.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**George Oswald Dannyson: You're goddamn right, and I agree whole-heartedly.**

**LegionOfMisfits: Believe me, I'm just excited as you! I'm having a blast with this story!**

**OBSERVER01: Ooh, now that's a possibility! **

**Via: I'm glad you enjoyed it! It was my favorite entrance as well! And you were correct, it was implied to be Tuckson! ;) **

**OmegaCloud696: Hey, I'm glad to hear you're a fan! You rock!**

**Gafgar: Damn... good point. I should probably go back and switch it! (Add it to the revision list!) I'm really glad to have you here, I appreciate all the info you have, it's incredibly useful!**

**SovietSniper92: I'm super pumped you're still with me! I love reading your reviews! As for Emerald being Syrian, it wasn't uncommon for slavers to go roaming around and capturing people. IIRC, not all slaves came from wars!**

**KCNederland: Wow, thank you so much! I'm blushing! Thanks for the CC, I'll definitely take a look back at it!**

**Mintskittle: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoying yourself!**

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**Next Chapter: Story time with Albus! Also... ARKOS! :D**


	9. At the Altar of His Narcissism

**A/N: Oh look, this is still a thing! ****_*sobs*_**** I'm so sorry it took this long to update!**

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**Chapter IX: At The Altar of His Narcissism**

Albus sent Weiss to bed, ignoring her repeated requests for wine. Ruby watched the scene before her unfold, not trusting herself to speak. Chewing her lip, she recalled the night's events. Watching Weiss fight had been enthralling, but it terrified her as well. Her defiance in the face of defeat was admirable, but Ruby couldn't help but feel the tribune's dedication was… _obsessive_ in nature.

The two auxiliaries stopped by the tent to check on Weiss, but she'd already fallen asleep, exhausted by her bout with Pyrrha. The one named Nora was still smiling, but her arm wrapped tight around her husband's, fingers pulling the cloth of his tunic tight. Ruby bowed to them.

"Thank you again for the wine." She said. Nora waved her words away.

"It's our treat. I would like to speak with you further sometime." Nora said, appraising her. "It's not often one so young as yourself is made a centurion." Ruby could comment how the two auxiliaries were the same age, (and led an entire cohort of auxiliaries!) but she chose to remain silent.

"There were extenuating circumstances," she said, trying to remain humble.

"Such as…?" Nora pried, eager to learn more. Ruby sighed, remembering the event that had catapulted her into the world of tribunes and officers, letters and lessons.

"I rescued Tribune Schnee from rebels during our battle several weeks ago."

"This is a regular occurrence then?" The man – Ren – asked, nodding at the unconscious form of the Schnee scion. His voice was soft and measured, like river water hissing over rocks. It was the first time she'd heard him speak.

"More regular than I'd like." Albus grumbled from the other side of the tent, rinsing his hands in a wooden basin. He looked over the two auxiliaries. "My Lady is very tired, and I'll not have you disturbing her rest." Ren nodded, leading his wife out of the tent.

"Our apologies!" Nora said. "When she wakes, tell her I would like to speak with her," she added before the canvas flap sealed shut. Marble watched them go, his hands wringing together.

"Will she be alright?" He asked Albus, who grunted.

"Of course she will. Her pride will be wounded, but that's for the best." He sighed. "If she keeps acting in such a brash manner, it'll finally kill her."

"Forgive me…" Ruby said, interrupting their conversation. Something about the way Albus spoke set something crawling up her spine. "You make this sound as though this is a regular occurrence." He stopped, his eyes focusing on his charge. Stooping, he brushed a few strands of muddy white hair out of her eyes.

"It is. About Lady Schnee… has she told you of her home? Of her father?" Ruby shook her head. "Of becoming a Daughter?"

"No. Never. Only lessons." She wondered what his aim was. Albus was a strange man, and the only member of Weiss' retinue who dared speak to her with anything less than total obedience. He scratched the grey-snow stubble of his beard, eyes glazing over in thought.

"Perhaps I should, then." Marble shifted in his seat, studying his sandals.

"Weren't you going to bed?" Ruby asked. Albus chuckled, a mirthless sound.

"I find myself worrying after our… _indomitable_ heiress." He shrugged. "Perhaps sharing my burden will help me find the realm of Somnus." He ruffled through his belongings, bringing forth a flagon of an unknown liquid. "But this should help as well. Follow, Centurion." With a last look at Weiss, Ruby did as he said.

The night was clouded and foggy, the weeks of rain sifting through the air in wisps of ghost-breath. A crescent moon hung behind the purpling clouds, its pale edge sharp enough to cut a sweeping gash in the sea of stars. Pyrrha and Jaune had yielded the impromptu training yard, as the impetus behind the spar had been lost in its sheer ferocity. Albus stood outside, surveying the camp laid out before them.

"Ah… Albus?" Ruby asked, confused at his purpose.

"I am sixty-seven years old, Young Rose." She sucked in a gulp of air at the revelation. Few men lived beyond fifty, and none of them looked as spry as Albus. _Clearly, the man is blessed by the gods_. _That, _she thought_, or he is soon to be on death's door_. "My Lady keeps my wrinkled ass near for my knowledge, not my haste." Ruby nodded.

"Weiss… Tribune Schnee…" She corrected herself. Albus ignored her concern.

"Believe me, I don't care what you call her." Ruby pondered this.

"You must know her very well."

"I do. Better than any other person alive," he huffed. "My relationship with the House of Schnee is long and unpleasant, but I should start at the beginning. Here," he said, passing her the strange drink. Ruby took it, unsure of what was happening.

"What is it?" It didn't look like wine or water. It was brown and brackish.

"A barbarian habit I picked up." Shrugging, she took a sip. She almost vomited when a sour taste washed over her tongue. She hacked and coughed, eyes spilling tears.

"What in the name of Jupiter?!" Ruby managed, fist pumping over her chest. "What is this?" Albus laughed. He didn't rush to help her, so she assumed she would live. Instead, he said something in a foreign language, sing-song and full of phlegm.

"Oh, I still remember that first sip!" He said, laughing again before taking the flagon for himself. Pausing, he gazed at the tent for a second before taking another drink.

"What is this?" Ruby asked, holding the flagon as one would hold the head of a serpent.

"Beer. A habit from the East." He began. "It's related to how I met Weiss' grandfather, and how I began my sordid relationship with the Schnees. You know of Crassus?"

"The rich old senator? Isn't he the one that got a whole legion killed in Syria?

"Not the whole legion," he murmured.

"I-I'm sorry." He waved his hand at her.

"Your platitudes mean nothing to me. It was a very long time ago." Not knowing what else to do, Ruby took another drink of this… beer concoction. It was sour, but it was so different, she couldn't help but sip at it. "I was trapped in the east for almost five years, but eventually, I returned to Rome. And they called me a coward for returning with my life. Pruinus Schnee, Weiss' grandfather, was the only one to see my talents as a medic. An upstart tribune, with more cunning and ambition than common sense," he said, sneering.

"You speak ill of him, when he saved you from an ignoble fate," Ruby protested. "Forgive me, but that seems disrespectful."

"You're too precocious for your own good," he said, snatching the beer away from her.

"I'm a Centurion," she said. "I don't have much of a choice." He huffed at that, a small smile on his lips. Watching the twinkling lights of Lugdunum, he resumed.

"He attached me to his Ludus as a medicae for a time. Stitching up gladiators, mending their bones." He took a deep breath. "Poisoning his rivals." Ruby shuddered at the sudden chill in his voice, and the bitter, cowardly words they contained.

"He forced you to poison people?" A mirthless chuckle.

"I was happy to. The Schnee House fed me, housed me. Like you said, he'd saved me from an ignoble fate. But when the civil wars tore the city asunder, I saw their true nature. They a pit of vipers."

"Vipers?" Ruby asked. "What's a viper?"

"I forgot you were a peasant." Albus said, eyes rolling. Ruby 'hmphed', but ignored the jibe. He was correct, after all. "A type of serpent. Pruinus Schnee was a vicious, conniving man. He ordered me to kill his older son, since he favored the younger." Ruby paled, the color draining from her face. Such an affront against the gods was unmentionable, horrific. It was within his rights as _Pater Familias_, but a reviled act nonetheless.

"You… didn't do it, right?" She managed, fearful of the response. He shook his head, and she let loose a long sigh of relief.

"I should have." The words were a slow knife of horror that edged its way into her heart. He spat a wad of phlegm and beer at the ground, his lined face creasing in anger. "That bastard was Nixus Schnee, and proved to be a viler man than his twisted father. He thrived on the chaos of the civil wars, feeding upon the people's misery, snapping up power in greedy fistfuls."

"And Weiss?"

"Weiss was his first child. I helped deliver her, despite the midwifes' protests." Only midwives were trusted with the birthing process… as far as she knew. He must be a skilled physic, or Weiss was born in extenuating circumstances. "Right from the start, I fought for her life. He demanded the child be left in the woods. Only sons would do." He shuddered. "I convinced him to keep her, but he never stopped resenting her. Every day she pushed herself to please him, recite his disgusting creeds and worship at the altar of his narcissism. It was never enough." He took a deep breath. Then along came Winter."

"Ah… winter?" Albus shook his head.

"Winter is Weiss' sister." He took a long swallow of beer before extending the drink to Ruby, who took it readily. "She was born healthy, but the gods in their infinite cruelty took her health from her when she was three. Now, she is frail and weak-willed." He lowered his voice, and she strained to hear his words. "Weiss loves her sister dearly, but knows what would become of her if she had not been born. She does not want her sister to suffer the same fate as herself. To be the scion of the House of Schnee is a terrible curse." He took another long sip of his foreign drink before handing the flagon to Ruby.

"Albus…. You said earlier that pushing herself like this is a regular occurrence. Does Weiss take her father's approval so obsessively?"

He huffed. "She fought tooth and nail to earn her titles and skills," he said, words heavy and ponderous. "Charging headlong into an army of slaves and challenging one of the most renowned warriors of our time are only her latest endeavors. She's been beaten down, broken, and re-forged more times than I care to recall. The pressure to advance her family's name is a crushing weight, one not easily shrugged off." He paused, his tired eyes raking over the camp once more. "I've done what I can. I've mended her wounds, and sat by her bedside through many difficult recoveries. I've tried my best to repair the damage Nixus has done, but only time will tell if my words take." Albus' words had shocked her, but she realized their truth in how Weiss carried herself. Ruby sipped at the beer again, finding now that she almost enjoyed the bitter beverage. Almost.

"Thank you, Albus. I can't say your words bring me comfort, but they were enlightening. You love our Lady well." She said. He snorted with laughter, a small grin pulling his lips tight.

"She is the daughter I've never had." He accepted his drink. "And don't tell her I said that. The shrew will never let me hear the end of it." He smiled again. "You bring her great joy. She enjoys having a pupil. Take care you do not misplace that trust."

Ruby thought about his words. Recalled the weeks spent agonizing over her letters, listening attentively to Weiss while she lectured her on the finer points of literature. The smiles and discussions they'd shared.

"I won't."

* * *

"Pyrrha, what in the name of the gods happened back there?" Jaune asked. They had returned to his tent, mere minutes after the spar. She flinched at his words, shoulders hunched and weary. He'd never seen her act like that. Even when they routed the slaves, she had remained collected and confident.

"I-I'm sorry, Jaune," she said. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Removing his Tribune's cape, he set it around her shivering shoulders. The tent was cool and damp, the candles that spilled an orange glow upon the canvas sputtering and weak. Clutching at the cape's edges, Pyrrha huddled herself within the garment. Her skin was cool to the touch, grimy and slick with sweat. "Thank you," she muttered.

"Of course. Now, what came over you? If we weren't there to stop you, you would have killed her!" Jaune sat down on a folding stool, huffing out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "There's only so much I can do to protect you."

"Did it look like I needed protection?" Pyrrha asked, emerald eyes focused on the dirt between his feet. He shook his head and reached for a skin of water.

"Drink this," he said. She did so listlessly. "And I have no doubts to your prowess. I never did, and that spar was proof enough. Unfortunately, if you had killed Weiss, there's nothing I could have done to keep the entire Legion for stringing you up by your guts." Pyrrha's mouth parted with unformed words, but Jaune held up his hand. "And there's nothing you could have done to stop them. You're a skilled warrior. By Jupiter, I'd say you're the best one in the Legion. But there's only one of you." He put a hand on her shoulder. She was his friend. His best friend. The tortured look she wore sat ill on his shoulders. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you with me."

She looked close to tears, closer than she had ever been. Instead of weeping, she took his hand in her own, squeezing it tight.

"Thank you, Jaune." She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stank of sweat of exertion, but he returned the embrace. "I'm sorry." She said, retreating. "I swear to you it won't happen again."

"Thank you. I will say, however, that you put on quite the spar." He laughed. "A duel worthy of Homer." Pyrrha reddened. _Good to see she's warming up._ "I fear the day we meet on opposite sides of the battlefield."

"A few more years of work, and it might be the other way around," she said. Jaune chuckled.

"I doubt it, but it is a goal worth striving for." He shifted in his seat as she took another swallow of water. "Enlighten me… what happened back there? What warranted strangling her?" Pyrrha was silent for a time before locking eyes with Jaune. His throat worked. The intensity of her gaze sent a chilling rush of ice-melt down his spine. When she looked at him like that, everything else in the world seemed dull and lifeless, swallowed up in haze of green, green, green.

"She would not yield."

"So?"

"It is bravery to the point of foolishness. Her resolve is indomitable." She said.

"The gods have given her an iron will, then," he replied. It was Pyrrha's turn to shift in her seat. Her eyes sank, and the spell was broken. "You cannot fault her for that."

"Yes, but it bordered on suicidal… it…" She sighed. "I apologize. I'd rather not speak of the matter any further." Jaune was taken aback by the sadness that tinged her words, but he nodded, allowing his friend and confidant a well-deserved respite. _Women_. _I fear they will remain a mystery for my whole life._

A guard called from outside the tent.

"My Lord, the Auxiliary Captains wish to speak with you." Jaune looked Pyrrha. She smiled a weak smile.

"You hardly need my permission," she said. Jaune shrugged.

"Let them in, Decius." With a flash of canvas, his two newest subordinates entered. Nora held her husband's arm, holding him close. She fidgeted with excitement, wearing a sunny smile that lit the tent more warmly than all the candles combined.

"Salve, Sir," Ren said, his head bowed in deference.

"Salve," Jaune replied, grinning. In the weeks' marching, he had grown to enjoy the Auxiliaries' company. Ren stayed quiet for the most part, but never failed to deliver an insight or astute observation. And whatever gaps opened in conversation, Nora (or, as Jaune's men have taken to calling her, The Laughing Gaul) was eager to fill. One would mistake her childish enthusiasm and boundless energy for weakness… if one was a fool. She was the best rider in the Legio Pharus, and wicked with her weighted hasta.

"Salve!" Nora boomed, saluting. Pyrrha chuckled at the display. Jaune smiled too, happy to see a change in her mood, however slight.

"What brings you two around?"

"We wanted to check on Pyrrha!" Nora said. "It was a truly astounding display of arms." She pulled her hand free of Ren's, fists pumping with excitement. "We have to spar sometime, Pyrrha! I can't wait to test my mettle against you!" Pyrrha laughed, her hand coming up to hide away her smile.

"I will be sure to do so!"

"Nora, love, do be more careful with her." Ren suggested, pink eyes darting over to his Decurio. "The last time we let you spar, you broke your partner's arm." He said.

Nora sniffed, running a hand through her short braided hair. "He was weak, though," she said. Jaune laughed again, his hand returning to Pyrrha's shoulder.

"I think you'll find our local Greek to be made of sterner stuff," he said. She grinned, flushing with color.

"Outside of Lady Schnee, you Romans make poor sport," she said. "Perhaps a Gaul will prove to be a greater challenge." Ren and Jaune rolled their eyes, but Nora lit up with excitement.

"Lugdunum awaits." Ren said. "Perhaps the matter is best left until we arrive. I am sure Lady Nikos is tired from earlier. Please, accept our apologies for intruding." Jaune waved his concern away.

"You are always welcome in my tent, Ren. Your right to an audience stands ad infinitum." The man's head bowed again, the pink slash of hair falling in front of his face.

"That means thank you," Nora said, once again taking hold of her husband. "Not every spoilt lordling's son would allow such rights to colonists and their barbarian wives." She winked at Jaune. "We'll be off now. You two have fun." Decius swung the tent flap open, and the Auxiliaries left, as swift and sudden as they had arrived.

"Did she… I… I believe she just called me spoiled," Jaune said.

"Well, you _were _awfully flabby when I first met you." Pyrrha said, grinning, appraising him from the side of her eyes.

"You are a cruel woman."

"I am not in the habit of lying, Jaune, despite the reputation my people have among your kind." She prodded his stomach with a finger, finding nothing but muscle. "So believe me when I say you have improved considerably since then." Jaune groaned in shame, going red in the face.

"Are you done torturing me?" Pyrrha yawned.

"I am. I will head to bed after a quick wash. Tomorrow, Lugdunum awaits." She stood, removing his cloak from her shoulders, handing it to him with a small smile. "Thank you Jaune. For everything."

* * *

Nora sighed once they were clear of their commander's tent, her head resting upon Ren's chest.

"Is there something amiss?" He asked. She looked up at him with a wide grin.

"Not at all."

"Nora, that smile has not fooled me once. It shall not start tonight." She laughed, lips pressing against his cheek.

"She fancies him," she said. Ren looked at her.

"Truly?"

"Oh yes," she replied, grinning. _Gods but she wears a gorgeous smile_, Ren thought "As sure as the rising sun."

"I find that hard to believe," he said. He had observed no such attraction in the few short weeks he had known his new superior.

"That's because you do not possess a woman's insight." She countered, wagging her finger at him. He rolled his eyes, and Nora punched his shoulder for his insolence. "It's obvious, Ren! They're such teenagers." She said.

"_We_ are teenagers."

"You and your logic," she said, a playful snap. Ren chuckled. "Do you think everything will be okay between them? With Pyrrha and Weiss?" He thought for a moment, stroking his chin. Three days of stubble made the gesture coarse and abrasive. _I need a shave_.

"Weiss strikes me as the reasonable type." Nora tried to interrupt, but he held his finger to her lips, silencing her. "Despite the fact she picked a fight with Pyrrha Nikos of all people. She is not one to hold a grudge. And Pyrrha is simply too kind to hold anything resembling hatred in her heart."

"She _is_ rather soft-hearted," Nora added. "She apologizes all the time. She practically bleeds humility and graciousness."

"Yet you worship the ground she walks upon," Ren said. Nora huffed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Do I sense jealousy, husband?" He nipped her ear in retaliation. She shivered, reddening, but shook him off with a wry smile. "Ah, none of that now." She looked at Jaune's tent, smile fading. "It's just that her ways are so different from my own. The garb of the Valkyries would not suit her."  
"She is rather different from what I expected." Ren conceded. "The stories about her must be exaggerated." Nora shrugged.

"We both saw what happened back there."

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**A/N: Sorry for not paying enough attention to this fic. Life has been insanely busy, and it's only really had time to pump out chapters for A World of Bloody Evolution. I found a brief respite in my schedule, so here's the newest chapter for the Shining Legion! I haven't forgotten about it, promise!**

**Anyways, thoughts on the chapter? Personally, I love Albus line about Nixus so much, I had to make it the chapter title. One of my favorite things I've written.**

**Please, let me know what you think!**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Ludus: Gladiator school/house, although I'm sure you figured that one out by context.**

**Pater Familias: Lit; "Father of the Family". The undisputed leader and head of a household. A position of power and respect, and permitted to treat their family however they wished.**

**Somnus: Roman god of sleep.**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Albus' beer: A little (read: a lot) unrealistic for Albus to have, but I thought it'd be fun. Basically, beer was seen by Romans as a barbaric beverage, and rarely found within the walls of Rome. And yes, its origins stemmed from the east, mostly from Egypt and Syria. No idea how he got it to Gaul though...**

**Winter being the younger sibling: This chapter was actually written around February, LONG before we knew what Winter looked like... so... oops. XD**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**L4 of the WEST: Hahaha, this review still makes me smile. Always enjoy responses like that. :)**

**OBSERVER01: Same here! Too cute not to do!**

**George Oswald Dannyson: That's a pretty cool analogy, even though I only saw that fight for the first time a few weeks ago. **

**Okamitaretsu: No word on the ships right now, but I'm so glad you're enjoying my story as much as you are. I'm having a blast writing it!**

**Ou0: She's a versatile warrior, after all!**

**Inquisitor Azreal: You're too kind! I just wish I could update it more often for you, then... :(**

**ocomfv: They got lucky no one was!**

**Gafgar: *reads wall of text* This is awesome info! Pompeii graffiti is fucking hilarious btw, so outside common expectations of Romans. XD The thing on pankration was fascinating as well. I knew they wrestled and boxed, but wasn't sure exactly how it was done. Thanks again for this awesome review!**

**Mintskittle: Thanks for the constructive criticism. (And I mean that). Since you left this review all those months ago, I've done my damndest to improve on that front. Glad you're enjoying yourself. :)**

**Guest: Right?**

**Via: I agree. A total wipe wouldn't have been as much fun to read though, and I thought I struck a pretty good balance. I hope Albus' tale satisfied (as well as your dose of Nora shenanigans.) :D**

**Chargone: Fixed, and thanks so much!**

**GreatWyrmGold: Fair enough. I figured it really shouldn't be though, even if Pyrrha was fated to win no matter what.**

**T.C.K 2512: Hey, thanks so much! Funnily enough, it made me go back and play it too!**

**Nemrut: Thanks, dude! Glad to hear you're liking the story! :D**

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**Next Chapter: Emerald and Sun return! Until then, everyone!**


	10. A Skull-White Nightmare

**A/N: Hey everyone! Time for another chapter of everyone's favorite AU! :D**

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**Chapter X: A Skull-White Nightmare**

Emerald watched the moon ascend, a glittering silver blade cutting deep into the stars. Four days' ride with the Roman Scouts had left her with a sore ass and blistering legs. She preferred running through the woods on foot, branches scraping against her shoulders, the crunch of leaves between her toes. Riding felt brazen. Unnatural. There was no quiet either. The clash of hooves sounded like thunder to her, making her feel like a noisy piece of prey in the eyes of a greedy hunter. The wounded were worsening as well, moaning and mumbling. Sun tried to joke with his subordinates, always talking with the wounded, working smiles out of their pale lips. In the Cherusci, they would have slit their own throats rather than be such a burden.

But they were uncultured Romans, and persisted in making petty noises.

The only peace lay in watch duty, scanning the forest for signs of danger. But tonight, as always, there was nothing but the roar of crickets and trilling songs of the night-birds. The campfire crackled behind her, warming her back as she leaned against the tree trunk that served as an impromptu watchtower. Mercury had been surly and embittered since joining up with the Exploratores. He was all too happy to share their food, however, gobbling up their foraged pheasant with glee before curling up and snoring blissfully. It had been a long day. One of the roads they'd been using was choked with fallen timbers and brambles, and they'd been forced to take a round-about path.

She rubbed her eyes. Two more hours before she woke the green-haired man (Sagus? Sage?) to take her place. In truth, if she did not have a week's worth of more torturous riding ahead of her, she'd be happy to stay awake all night.

However, visiting Lugdunum was intriguing. They were there to spy after all, and seeing a real Roman city for the first time caught her interest. The only memory she had of a city was the stink of a slave market and the shouts of a corpulent auctioneer.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Sun said, dropping down from his perch. Emerald jumped at his sudden appearance, hand clasping the hilt of a curved dagger. "Hey, easy! I give up!" He threw his hands up in surrender, his tail wrapped tight around the branch above her. Assured there was no danger, she sighed.

"You are not privy to my thoughts." _Roman_. She wanted to add.

"Alright. Nice reflexes by the way! If I'd meant you any harm, I bet you might have nicked me pretty good." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"And are you a betting man?" Emerald asked. He grinned.

"I might be. I do enjoy the thrills of risky gambit."

"That explains why you persist in annoying in me." She countered. He whistled, low and steady.

"Just because Legatus Ironwood sent you doesn't mean you can disrespect your superiors like that," he said playfully.

She huffed in annoyance. "When I see one, then I'll be concerned," she spat. He chuckled, the sound like the thrumming of bowstrings.

"If your strange knives are as sharp as your tongue, I fear for any man who wrongs you." She glared at him, but the smile never left his face.

"We are on watch, you know," she said.

"There is nothing out there that would threaten us. The smell of our steel would give pause to all but the largest gimm-packs." He said. "To say nothing of brigands. We could chew them up and spit them out like alley dogs scrapping over a bone." _Typical Roman arrogance. If I didn't have a message to deliver, I could slit all your throats in seconds._

"Regardless, I'd prefer to sit my watch in silence." He gave an upside-down shrug.

"Suit yourself, Emerald." He ascended, his tail swinging him away from her in a manner of moments. _Prick._ She sighed again, looking out over the forest. At least now it was truly silent. No Roman faunus blabbering at her, no crickets, no birds, just the soft rustle of wind through the leaves.

Wait. Fuck.

"Sun!"

"I know!" He said, reaching for his horn. The woods were never quiet. The crickets never stopped their chirping sound. If she learned one thing with the Cherusci, it was that the woods are _never_ still. Sun blew the horn, waking the small camp and startling the horses. They nickered and snorted, whining from the sudden noise.

Metal rang out, swords sliding free of scabbards.

"What is it?" The red-haired man cried, gladius in hand. "Sun, what's wrong?!" A screeching roar answered him, swelling out from the bushes, accompanied by the clatter of skittering insect-legs.

"Emerald!" Mercury said, worry spreading his eyes wide.

"I don't know either!" She shouted, knives drawn. _Could it be… no… they were just younglings… barely spawned._

The woods erupted into chaos. Splintered branches and shrubbery burst forth from the darkness, bending before the might of a fully-grown Deathstalker. Its enormous claws snapped and clattered, its legs scuttling with horrific jerking motions. Its jaw unfolded, dripping with corrosive spit and letting loose an unnatural screech. Above it, a stinger waved and wobbled, glowing bright orange.

"By the gods," a Roman cried, "what the fuck is that thing?!" No. This wasn't right. Cinder's hatchlings shouldn't have grown so fast. This species of grimm was native to Persian and Egyptian lands… _Why is one stalking around central Gaul?_

The thing filled her with fear. _Its eyes_! _By Wodin, its eyes! _Eight orange orbs, unblinking and set in the bone-white of its body. Nothing looked more unnatural to her, more full of uncaring hate.

"EMERALD!" Sun cried, grabbing her arm. He hauled her out of the way of the rampaging beast, pulling her aside in a flash of red tunic and scruffy blond hair. She tasted blood as her teeth bit into the softness of her tongue.

The Romans screamed in fear. The Deathstalker trilled at the sound, and the noise made Sun shudder against her. She sprung up, helping Sun to his feet.

"Up! Get up!" She bellowed.

"Right!" The Deathstalker paused in its assault, facing down the row of shields with snapping claws and clicking tusks.

"Twins deliver us!" A Roman cried. "What manner of beast is this?!"

"What do we do, Sun?!" The blue-haired boy shouted. Sun drew his gladius, anger furrowing his brow.

"Get Fallia and Ashwood clear! Hurry!" They never had time to obey, as the Deathstalker launched its attack. Its stinger struck like lightning, catching the rounded edge of a Roman shield. The sheer force splintered the scutum, the point sinking home into the Roman's neck. He gurgled in surprise and fear, blood coursing from the wound. Poison ate his flesh away, steaming and smoking as it ran down his chest. He tried to scream, clawing at his boiling neck-flesh.

"MARCUS!" Sun screamed. The Deathstalker chittered with glee, rushing forward to claim its prize.

"BASTARD!" The red-head roared, hacking away at the outstretched appendage. He was a big man, and the blow bit deep into the black carapace. It shrieked, battering at him with the blunt edge of its claw. He rolled aside, his teeth bared in feral rage. Sun wore the same expression, teeth biting deep into his lip, spilling a trail of blood down his chin. Emerald's eyes flicked over him in surprise. He'd worn nothing but a playful smile in the four days she'd known him, and this new anger was… unnerving.

"Scarlet! Keep it distracted!" He bellowed. The red-head obeyed, slashing at the beast's insectoid legs. The creature roared, turning about to face its attacker. Its claws hammered the ground, each impact missing the nimble Roman by inches. Only instinct and practiced skill kept him alive. "Sage!"

"Already on it!" The green-haired man replied. He was dragging the wounded soldiers away.

"Well?" Sun addressed his soldiers, pointing at the grimm with his sword. "What are you dogs waiting for?" He cried. "For Rome! For Glory and for Marcus! Forward!"

"**_AYE_**!" His men bellowed as one, storming forward to meet their foe. Emerald charged as well, screaming in german. What came over her, she couldn't say. Fury filled her heart and set her blood afire.

The Deathstalker roared, snapping its claws at the swarm of Romans. Pila crashed against its chitin, scraping off and clattering into the night. Emerald ducked under the swipe of its claw, feeling her hair rippling from the wind of its passing. Her daggers rocketed forward, digging into a gap in its armor. It barely noticed, skittering back a few paces, away from this sting of blades.

"Come on, you big bastard!" Sun bellowed, scooping up a shield, ringing his sword against it. He turned to his men. "I'll distract it; you take it from the side!"

"But Sun!"

"Shut your mouth Neptune, and do as I say!" Blue-haired trident-boy obeyed and gripped his namesake, knuckles white in the dim glow of the fire. _Wait… the fire!_

"Mercury!" Her brother was close to the fire, and caught her glance in a second. He hurled a torch at her, and she caught it deftly. She was too late, as the Deathstalker struck out with its wounded stinger. Sun shifted, liquid given faunus form. The tail soared to the side, and he hacked at it with a scream of exertion. It split away, and black ichor flooded from the stump. The noise the grimm made set her hackles shooting out through her tunic.

"You like that, fucker?" Sun cried. His men attempted to attack the creature, but it shrugged them off, dancing around them as it bled onto its back. "Mars and Mara, give me strength!" He cursed. A claw jutted forward, closing around a roman shield. It splintered under the force, mulching the woman's arm into a mass of bone and blood. She shrieked, battering at the Deathstalker in her blind agony. The gladius did nothing as it pattered against the grimm's armored appendage.

Emerald darted forward, torch in hand. She waved it at the creature, hoping to distract it. She succeeded, and the creature dropped the screeching woman to face her. It bore down at her, tusk-fangs clicking with rage. _Wait… what the fuck am I doing? Why am I distracting this thing?! I should've grabbed the horses with Mercury and bolted!_

Too late to flee now. She hurled her torch at it, where it struck its largest eye. It made that horrible squealing noise again, flailing out at her. A black mass of carapace struck her, sending her tumbling against the hard-packed earth. She skidded to a halt, pain filling every pore of her being.

Her lungs sucked for air, and the stars mocked her with their brightness as she stared upwards, fighting for breath. Blackness ate at her vision. She couldn't breathe, and panic surged through her. Her chest hitched and wavered. Around her, the shouts of battle still raged, but they seemed far away, leagues away. They could be in Syria for all she knew.

Blood covered her front. Roman blood… that soldier that the claw had claimed. She was still screaming, but Emerald wasn't sure where she was.

"Emerald!" Mercury. Brother. Grey hair filled her vision, and breath filled her lungs, fighting away the nausea and ringing, sucking pain. She gasped and spluttered, reaching for her daggers. They were gone. "Emerald!" Mercury hissed again. "We need to get out of here!" _I was just thinking the same, brother mine._ He hauled her to her feet. "Hurry!"

The Deathstalker screamed, one of its eight legs weeping blood. A trident had been jammed into it, the blue-haired boy behind the weapon with a visage of pure hatred. Scarlet threw his leader a pilum. He caught it, rushing forward under the assault of chitinous limbs. He was like a dancer in how he moved, lithe and graceful. With an impetuous roar, he hurled the javelin into the grimm's unfolded jaw.

"Let's go. While they're distracted!" Mercury said. Emerald shook her head.

"Can't."

"What?!"

"That thing's got our scent. It'll chase us down no matter how fast we are. We kill it now, or it'll kill us later." She spat, the metal tang of blood kissing her tongue. The Romans were not faring well. Many had been battered aside by the creature's flailing, and lay sprawling in the dirt. It was only a matter of time before the beast killed them all.

The Deathstalker backed away, appraising the situation. Its claws clashed against each other, black ichor spilling from a dozen wounds. Chips off a brick building.

Emerald saw the glint of metal in the firelight. Her daggers. She scooped one up, pain lancing up her side as she did so. _Wodin, if my ribs are broken…_ She didn't have time to consider the implications, as the Deathstalker resumed its attack, both claws hurtling for Sun's tiring body. She hurled her dagger at it, under its attack. It buried itself up to its hilt in its eye. It stopped its advance, agony ripping another unearthly cry from its wounded maw. Its weight still continued unimpeded, crushing into the Decurio and knocking him aside.

"To me!" Scarlet cried, dashing forward to the side of his friend. Sun struggled to rise, but found he could not.

Emerald limped over to her other dagger. A weapon. Anything. She had a purpose, a task to perform. Cinder had given her a duty to fulfill, and it did not lie in getting devoured by a grimm… no matter how giant.

The scouts formed a wall of cracked shields around their fallen leader, bellowing at the Dealthstalker, rattling their shields with righteous anger. The grimm hacked at them, but found no purchase. Emerald's hand clasped her second dagger. The other one had fallen free, but it was too close to the grimm's clattering limbs. Her fingers closed around the blade. A short, chuffing laugh escaped her. _How useful a bow would be._

The sound of shattering ceramic pierced the night, accompanied by a smell that assaulted her nostrils, rank and choking in its acrid, bladed edge. The Deathstalker retreated in confusion, retching noises leaving its horrid mouth.

A torch flew forwards, catching the beast on its back. Green fire burst forth, blinding and bright as the Sun. Emerald shielded her eyes from the sheer glare. She should have covered her ears, as the shrieks the creature made would haunt her dreams for weeks to come. It sounded like the screech of furies, come to wreak their havoc upon the mortal world. A smell assaulted her, the rank and pungent stench of roasting grimm.

She stumbled over to the Romans. Many were vomiting. Even Sun lost the contents of his dinner, spilling yellow bile onto the forest floor. Emerald gagged too, tasting blood and bile surge up her throat. Biting it back down, she sat, sucking in deep, reeling breaths.

"What the fuck," she panted. "What the fuck just happened?" Those were no regular flames. They were as green and bright as her lime-colored hair.

"Greek fire." A stranger said. She looked up at the source of the noise. A woman sat in the fork of a tree above them, clad in night-black rags, coated in bloody war-paint. Her hair was bound into a tight bun, but a band of yellow locks hung in front of her face.

Three other forms melted out of the emerald-tinted shadows. One was the tallest man Emerald had ever seen, his eyes hooded and beady-black. A thick white scar ran across his neck. One was a rabbit-faunus, her comically over-sized ears at odds with the hard and unyielding glare she wore. The last man was blind, looking out at the forest with pale unseeing eyes. They all wore black.

"Who are you?" Emerald challenged. The leader slipped down from her perch. Sun was a dancer, but this woman put his grace to shame. She seemed to move, while not moving at all. Her comrades fell into place behind her, framed by the burning corpse of the Deathstalker.

"The first Exploratores Detachment…" Sun managed, wincing. "Grimm-Hunters." Emerald looked at them again. Grimm were forged by the night-goddess Luwilo as a plague, night-stalkers that sowed fear into the hearts of mortals.

Those that made them their prey were among the most dangerous people alive.

"Sun." The lead woman said.

"Coco," he replied.

"Are you hurt?"

"My men. My men need help first. See to Cassia. She's been grievously wounded." The Coco woman snapped her fingers, and the faunus woman left to deal with the screaming Roman. "My…" He grunted. "My thanks."

"I would not thank us." The blind man said. Emerald shivered in the night air. _What does he mean by that?_

"That creature's been wreaking havoc across the countryside." Coco said, eyes flicking over to the smoldering grimm. Its legs crumpled and twitched, curling in towards its belly. The smell was tremendous. "Fox. 'Hashi. Smother the flames before we set the entirety of Gaul aflame." They nodded, spinning on their heels. Emerald gritted her teeth. Romans, as she found, were full of surprises. Coco appraised her, cocking her head quizzically.

"You aren't with the Exploratores."

"I'm a herald from Legatus Ironwood." She nodded. "Why should we not thank you?" The blind man's words sat ill with her.

"You were our bait. The creature could not resist such a meal. Which is why we funneled you here, where the trees better supported our ambush." Sun roared, throwing a fist at her. She stepped under it, grabbing his arm and throwing his body over her shoulder. A dagger pricked the skin under his chin, all in a heartbeat. The scouts snarled, stepping forward with their weapons.

"Bait! You **_bitch_**! One of my men lies dead!" He bellowed. Emerald found herself sympathizing with his anger. To be used in such a callous manner rankled her deeply. Coco's reply was calm, measured, but tinged with sadness.

"My apologies. That was not our intention. This creature's speed surprised us." She stood, releasing Sun from her hold, he stood, rubbing his eyes and wiping blood from his mouth. He spat in anger, not willing to meet her eyes.

"What in the name of the Gods _is _it?" Neptune asked, eyes raking over the corpse.

"It is a Deathstalker. A horror from the land of Judea and beyond." Coco replied. "Not many grow to this size, but those that do are feared throughout the lands. It is many, _many_ leagues from its home territory. I fear as though something terrible lurks in the shadows."

"I feel the same." Sun said, his words angry and clipped. "But we should discuss it later. My men are tired and wounded. The Legion should be in Lugdunum by now, and we must reach them with all available haste."

"I agree. We should be off as soon as possible," Coco replied.

Emerald collected her daggers. A great bruise was forming across her chest, purple and angry in the dying glow of the great green fire.

"Are you well?" Sun asked, clutching his side.

"I will live. Look to your own men," she said. He smiled a sad smile.

"I shall. Thanks for your help." His arm reached out, and she took it, shaking with what feeble strength remained. "You fight well."

"As do you."

She accepted a skin of wine from Mercury, wiping away the blood-red beads of liquid that ran down her neck as she gulped at it.

_Rotten Romans_. She thought, watching Sun order his men about. _Brave as boars, the bloody fools._

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**A/N: I have so much fun writing this, it's a damn shame I can't return to it as frequently as I'd like. Also, for everyone who's still with me... thank you so much! The reviews I get keep this fic going, so each and every one helps. I'm even more stoked to see how well it's being received! You guys are the best! :D**

**Also, TEAM CFVY, EVERYONE!**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Wodin: The ancient german predecessor to the Nordic god Odin. They share similar realms of influence, and are both considered the 'head god' of their respective pantheon. If I'm incorrect on this, please let me know.**

**Luwilo: An _OC _germanic goddess that serves as the opposite of Sowilio, an actual germanic sun goddess. Here, she is the goddess of the night, of dark woods, and nightmares. Respected (and feared) as the one who made the creatures of Grimm.**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Greek Fire: A mysterious substance whose recipe has been lost to time. It was said to burn a sickly green, and even set the waves themselves aflame. The napalm of the ancient era, and more commonly reserved for use in naval engagements. It's also showing up way, WAY earlier than in actual history, as the first recorded instance of its use is in 672 AD... a full 600 years after this story takes place. I'll handwave it by saying that the first recorded instance of a flamethrower is actually around 424 _BC_, proving that even the ancients got their rocks off devising ways to set people on fire at a distance. I'll also say that some chemical knowledge in this version of Roman history has been massively jumpstarted by the discovery of Dust.**

**Grimm Desiring a 'Meal': Just a reminder that grimm don't eat people because they need to, it's because they _want_ to. In this case, the Deathstalker was large and crazed enough to think it could devour an entire Exploratores detachment.**

**The Deathstalker Battle: Not gonna lie - I had a ton of fun writing it. I really enjoyed seeing how ancient humans tackle grimm without the benefit of aura or semblances. This one went fairly realistically (I think), but I'd love to gather some feedback on it if it didn't go the way you thought it should. Also, it was only a hair larger than the one showed in Episodes 7/8 of S1.**

**Deathstalker having Poison: I mean, why not? So far, it hasn't been shown what happens when you get stung/bitten by one, but I imagine the results aren't pretty.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**Adepta Kate: I hope it kept your attention, then! Thanks for tuning in! :D**

**Inquisitor Azreal: Every time I write a chapter, I end up doing the same thing... It's stunning how much better it is after mods/updates!**

**GreatWyrmGold: I'm glad to see you're still with me! Always enjoy getting your reviews! And I agree about the graffiti! It's somewhat reassuring that after 2000 years of history, people's dick-drawing ability hasn't diminished...**

**Guest: I did have a lot of fun crafting the Schnee family history... glad to see you enjoyed it! And as for the younger son, he remains blissfully unaware. He's actually a decent human being too, if still a tad ruthless.**

**Guest: Sorry I almost drove you nuts... it's important to read the notes/glossary section! Other than that, I'm thrilled to see you're enjoying the story. :)**

**The Night Hunter: Ave, friend reader! **

**OBSERVER01: Ooh boy... we'll see how things go! But yes, I thought it was rather fitting. I'm glad to hear you enjoyed Albus!**

**Gafgar: THIS GUY. EVERYONE READ THIS GUY'S REVIEWS! Seriously man, always love to get your input and expanded information. I know a lot, but not as much as you. Always grin to see your latest review in my inbox. As for the Liennus' surprisingly accurate family... let's just say they've replaced the Munatius family, but their ages/duties have changed a bit. Ren's father founded Lugdunum, but did not reside there, pushing his colonization duties farther north into Central Gaul. Again, awesome info!**

**Mintskittle: I've decided to leave it as is. It would take too much work to change it now, and the whole "I MUST PROTECT WINTER" thing's pretty important for Weiss' character... not that her being older makes it _impossible_, just a tad weaker. **

**zackknight1265: I have no comment. **

**PRAETORIUM: Salve, friend historian! :D**

**MrTerrorist: I'm thrilled you're enjoying it so much! I'm having a blast figuring out who goes where, and how they'll play into the story. :) Interesting premise about the Fem!Caesar thing, but I don't think that... type of story is for me. And I'm very much in agreement! I wish I had more time for this.**

**kamonwan9952: I'm thrilled you're bringing so much enthusiasm to the story, even if it's not really what I intended... Oh well! Glad you're a fan! **

**Rampant Poultry: Happy you're liking it! As for your comment, it's something I've gotten a lot, and something I'm struggling to work on. Hopefully it gets better as the story progresses.**

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**Next Chapter: Finally... Lugdunum! :D**


	11. Whispers on the Wind

**A/N: *Shamefully posts extremely late update***

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**Chapter XI: Whispers on the Wind**

The hob-nailed boots of the legion soldiery crunched against the road, minutes from entering Lugdunum. _Just a scant few months ago, its roads rang with the sandals of free men, drunk on pillage and opportunity._ Blake's eyes darted to the riverside villas and the very manor she had served for seven years. What remained of it was hidden away by sloping vineyards and thin tree lines. Below the city sat the Arar river, its banks swollen with the recent rains. _No swimming for the Master's children, _she thought, frowning at the unwanted thought.

They were long dead now, butchered along with the rest of the major regional slave-owners. Adam had bought her then, paying her a single dagger for her loyalty. It took seven years to fill the children's heads with letters and literature, and it took two seconds to render that time useless.

It was a kindness. She'd saved the oldest, Julia, from a fate far more unpleasant than death.

"Is that your home?" Yang asked, following her stare.

"It was." _For a muscle-bound brute, she's remarkably sharp,_ Blake thought, turning her gaze onto the city. It had been ravaged by the slaves' passing, and many of the outlying buildings were looted clean and burnt to cinders. Signs of life persisted however. Blake could hear the dull roar of carpenter's saws singing out into the afternoon haze. Many of the farmer's homes were being restored, and the city walls wore a second skin of scaffolding. In Lugdunum, life went on. Their rebellion amounted to nothing.

"We're making camp outside the walls here in an hour or so. You wanna see if there's anything left afterwards?"

"No," Blake said. Yang shrugged, lilac eyes watching the villas pass by. Local children followed the column, watching the legionaries with awe. _Little brats._ At their age, she'd been under the instruction of her parents, learning their craft and the intricacies of ritual. There was no stick and hoop for her in Athens.

The Legionary commanders thundered past, riding atop their destriers. Off to meet with the General. Blake watched them go. With a few throwing daggers, she could have crippled the Legion's leadership.

She longed to stretch her wings and be free. Although what came after escape was not clear. Perhaps she could return to Athens and her parents, if they were still alive and had not run aground. Maybe she could seek her fortune with the barbarous Germans or in the mountains of Syria. Maybe the distant Nile could be her home for a time.

The first step was small, as it always was - obtain a weapon. Without the cold steel of her finger knife, she felt defenseless and naked. Perhaps she could slip a pugio from the Legion's stores on the pretense she was obtaining one for her Master. Her tongue ran over her lips. Good Roman steel was a start.

When the Legion halted its march and began assembling its camp, Blake rooted through Yang's sarcina, finding her prize without much effort.

"Blake! Come hold this stake for me!" Yang cried, calling over to her from the Centuria's command tent.

_Shit_.

"Coming Master," She said, tying the dagger to her bare thigh in a moment's time. Standing, she pulled her tunic down to her knees, concealing the weapon. She'd have to hide it quickly. Already, the pink-haired standard bearer was giving her suspicious looks.

"Needed something?" Flavia asked as Blake approached.

"A small lunch for my Master." Blake said, not deigning to look at the signifer. "Yang, some bread before we begin." It was a small chunk from her own meager food stores. She'd go hungry tonight, but it was better than arousing further suspicion.

"Hm? Oh, many thanks Blake! Truly, you were sent by the gods." Yang said, tearing into the bread with aplomb. _And what cruel gods they are_. Blake thought, crouching down to hold a canvas stake upright.

Grunting, Yang drove it into the ground, the crash of steel on steel one voice among a swelling chorus. Around them, a tent city sprung to life, aligned in perfect order. Today, the Legion was spared the duty of ditch-digging.

"Thanks Blake," Yang said, once she'd finished, wiping her brow and grinning. She took another bite of bread, humming a happy tune. "By the way, Ruby just informed me – the cohorts are taking it in turns to visit the city. We're going shortly, so could you prepare dinner while we're away?"

"Of course Master," Blake said, perhaps too quickly. Without the prying eyes of her Master or the Signifer, she could replace the stolen dagger without effort.

"Excellent. The kindling should finally be dry enough to make a good stew!" Yang exclaimed, a hand on her hip. "Oh, almost forgot." Stooping, she grabbed her hastile and tossed it to Blake. "Get some venison from the Game Master. Use this as proof I sent you."

Blake nodded. "I'll have it ready upon your return."

Yang grinned. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll be sure to take you around the city tomorrow. I heard they have a great spot for watching plays! I never got to go at home, but I'm sure they can't turn away an optio of the victorious Legio Pharus."

She resisted the urge to scoff. _Roman 'theater'._ What manner of plays did they enjoy? Most likely bawdy, trivial fare, or ham-fisted satire. Perhaps one or two about their right to subjugate all that they surveyed.

"It is doubtful indeed."

They finished erecting their tent, and helped the Fourth Centuria finish theirs. Blake waved goodbye to her Master as she left with her contuburnium to bathe in the river. As soon as she dipped below a hill, she spun on her heel, marching towards the Legion's provisionary tents.

The Quartermaster's tents stood tall, his personal tent guarded by a pair of swarthy Romans. She avoided their narrowed gaze. The baggage train had settled in, still ludicrously small for the size of the army it sustained.

The rattle of steel and spare armor drew her to the smithy's tent, the promise of a replacement blade like music to her pointed ears. With the hastile nestled in the crook of her elbow and resting against her shoulder, she ducked into the tent.

"Salve!" A voice boomed. The smithy was a towering faunus, two boar tusks jutting out from underneath his jaw. Noticing the tunic she dressed in and the staff on her shoulder, he 'harrumphed'. "I'm still settling in. What does your master need?"

"A new pugio," Blake said, dipping her head. "My master is Optio Yang, of the Fourth Centuria."

The smith grunted, fishing out a scrap of parchment from underneath a collapsible bench. After reading through the list, he dropped a quill and ink next to it, and gestured at her to sign it. "That's your master's name," he said, pointing. Blake knew, but didn't dare to voice that. "Normally I'd ask for her in person, but I we're restocking shortly, so I'll allow it."

Blake made a scribble next to Yang's name on the ledger and received the new dagger. Sliding the dagger from its scabbard, she noted it was of sufficient quality to replace the one strapped to her thigh._ More than enough to keep Flavia off my back._

Marching out of the tent, she made for the Legion's provisionary tent when a cry of pain distracted her. It was Dove. The malcontent. His friends were escorting him to one of the stockpiling tents, concern writ large on their faces. Their eyes darted about like fish, silver knives in tiny ponds.

_There is something amiss. _Her ears twitched, desperate to hear more. With the dagger obtained, she could spare some time to eavesdrop. Ducking out of the smithy's tent, she drank deep of the morning air, stilling her mind.

Her feet fell silently upon the grass, her breathing no more than a whisper. With a quick glance to make sure the Quartermaster's guards had their attentions focused elsewhere, she threw a sharp elbow into a rack of pilum.

They fell to the ground with a deafening rattle of metal and wood, but Blake was already moving. Two steps and a rolling dive took her to the canvas of the stockpiling tent. She rolled underneath the flaps, entering it unseen. Once inside, she threw a nearby blanket over her head and curled up into a ball behind a stack of crates.

No one had seen her.

"What was that?" One of Dove's friends asked. Russell Thrush… green-haired boy from his contubernium. "Did you hear that?"

"Calm yourselves," Cardin said, peeking out from the main flap. "A few pilum fell over. Lazy bastards in supply can't even set up a rack right."

"Whole Legion's falling apart," Dove snorted. "First Ruby's made Centurion, and now the baggage boys start slacking."

"Easy Dove," Cardin rumbled. "Are you so eager for another lashing?"

"There won't be another one," Dove growled. "I'll be fine in a few days."

"Then what?" Russell asked. He bent closer to Dove, and their conversation continued in whispers. Blake dare not move and draw attention to herself. Instead, she flattened her ears, pointing them in just the right direction to pick up their speech.

"Then we _do_ something about her," Dove hissed.

Cardin rumbled his discontent. "I don't like this, Dove. That's dangerous talk."

"Maybe, but can you blame me?" Dove protested. "It's not just petty revenge either. She's two years younger than you, Cardin. Most optios aren't promoted until they're in their late twenties… at the _youngest_. She's going to get us all killed."

"He speaks the truth," Russell said.

"You saw her rescue Tribune Schnee," Cardin replied. "And that was done without rank or a fancy cape. I have doubts about her, of course. But Dove, this plan of yours doesn't suit my interests. I won't betray you, but I'll take no part of it."

"Hmph," Dove protested. "Fair enough."

"I'm with you," Russell said. "A few of the boys are too. Julia, Brynus, Gaius, and Lead."

"Right. Once I've healed, we'll strike."

Blake had heard enough. Carefully, slowly, she peeled the sheet away from her eye. Cardin was making to leave, while the others had huddled up in a corner. Now was a good as time as any.

A foot snaked underneath the tent flap. Then a leg. Then she was gone, once more standing in the blinding sunlight. Straightening her tunic out, she left for the Game Master's tent. Cardin watched her pass. Their eyes met, but no words passed between them.

* * *

Weiss swept aside the flap to Ozpin's tent, finding she was the last one to arrive to the Tribune's meeting. Jaune and Quintus were deep in discussion, the Arc boy talking animatedly with the Paullus scion. The artillery commander's cat-ears twitched in amusement, but he listened intently to his junior.

_It seems Jaune's mood has improved since last night._ When he looked up from his fellow Tribune, his smile died.

"Salve," he said, swallowing. Weiss let an easy smile grace her lips. A part of her – a petty and plebeian voice – whispered poison into her soul, wishing her to stay bitter over her spar with Pyrrha.

But she was stronger than that part. "Salve," she replied, taking a seat at the table. They did not speak of last night.

"It is good of you to finally join us," Faustinia said. She was seated next to Port in respect for her seniority. "It seems you are in one piece after all, despite the rumors."

Port did not comment, instead choosing to continue stuffing his face with bread and garum.

Weiss glared at Faustinia, trying to summon a laconic retort. But nothing came forth. Her head pounded and ached, thanks the battering Pyrrha'd visited upon her. _Challenging her was stupid_. She decided to swallow Faustinia's rebuke. _It's what I deserve_.

"Salve all," Ozpin said, emerging from the back of his tent. A cup of wine filled his hands, and he sipped at it gingerly.

"Ave, Ozpin Legatus," they replied, hand over their hearts.

"Thank you for meeting here on such short notice. I promise not to busy you overmuch. We are here merely to discuss a few matters regarding Lugdunum. Lady Goodwych?"

The statuesque Senator nodded, placing a wax tablet on the table before them.

"What's this?" Port asked, fingers ghosting over the silver bristles under his nose.

"A simple list of duties for the Legion to perform while resting at Lugdunum," Glynda replied. "The region has suffered under the slave revolt, and the Governor has requested our assistance with a few things. Namely, help rebuilding parts of the city, keeping order, and grimm-watch duty."

"The milites have been marching through mud and grime for weeks on end," Faustinia said. "Surely they deserve some rest?"

"Aye," Jaune concurred. "My own cohorts and the auxiliaries won't take kindly to construction work. It's beneath them."

"Feh," Weiss said as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It's no different from building a fort every night. I assume our cohorts are rotating duties?"

"Correct," Glynda said. "Rest assured knowing that your men will have plenty of time to rest and relax for the next few weeks."

"Perhaps there will be time for a proper grimm hunt!" Port thundered, his fist ringing against the table. "It has been too long since I've conquered one of Pluto's children. It would be a shame if my prodigious hunting talent were to go to waste!"

Amusement rippled through the tribunes, and Quintus slapped Port's shoulder, grinning wide.

"Mired in my friend's boasting lies a good idea," he said. "The grimm have no doubt been plaguing these people. A sharp rebuke across their snout should teach them to find prey elsewhere."

"Very well," Ozpin said. "I'll leave its organization up to you, Lord Port."

"Hurrah!" Port said, beaming wide. A bit of garum stained his lips, but no one had the gall to tell him.

"While there will be some time for rest," Ozpin continued, "we shall not grow lax. I want your centurions running plenty of drills, and there will be century-sparring by the city's gates."

Weiss was inwardly grateful to the old Legatus. Plenty of time to see how far Ruby had come in her lessons. And though she was loathe to admit it, she agreed with Strabo – her troops needed rest.

"We'll inform Primus Pilus Oobleck," Weiss assured the senators. "When would you have us begin?"

"Tomorrow would be best," Ozpin replied. "It's important the fort is properly constructed, as we will be here for several weeks."

"As you will it Legatus," Weiss said. _Tomorrow is still a touch too early… what worries him so to warrant this endless drilling?_

"Legatus," Jaune asked, "may I abstain my men from the sparring? I have new drills and formations they must learn."

A rustle of interest rippled through the gathered tribunes. A snort of laughter escaped Faustinia.

"No doubt the brain child of your Greek Mistress," she said. The tribunes murmured in amusement, but Weiss frowned, hoarfrost crusting her heart. She had made a similar comment recently, and suffered for it.

Jaune, like Weiss, was not amused. For the first time since meeting the boy, Weiss noticed a flicker of rage crossing his face. _Is it possible the Arc boy has a spine after all? Or is it a recent growth?_

"Pyrrha knows the tactics of Greek soldiers better than anyone. But she does not know Romans," he replied. "These new drills are of my design, and I won't suffer a harridan questioning my methods."

Weiss' jaw was not the only one that hung open. _Did last night break him?_ Jaune was much too young to hurl insults at his elder, much less a Strabo. They were _old_ blood, and the Arcs were little more than elevated rabble.

"Hold your tongue boy," Faustinia growled. "Or else I shall have you fetch a switch. Your own mother clearly lacked the stomach to apply it properly."

Weiss' lip curled. A cruel jest, considering the terrible fate of Lord Arc's first wife. Jaune's fists worked and she could see blood leaking from his palms. She intervened before the poor fool dug himself too deep.

"Unfortunately Lady Strabo," Weiss said, directing attention away from Jaune, "I haven't seen any proper switching branches as of late. However, it seems you have sat on one _quite_ squarely. Perhaps you could remove it from your ass so that it could be of service?"

Jaune looked to her, the rage seeping out from him, replaced with pure shock. Had she just come to his defense? Weiss looked to the Arc boy._ You owe me._

"_Enough_," Ozpin said, his half-smile long vanished. "Lord Arc, as long as your men practice the old drills as well, they are excused from sparring."

"My thanks," Jaune told his lap, his cheeks bright red. _He is still a boy_, she realized. _He looks as though he has been caught stealing from the kitchen_.

"And I will not suffer any more bickering," Ozpin said, cold command poisoning the very air. "I will hear no more of it in my tent." Even Strabo had the good sense to nod and stare at her feet. Ozpin's voice brokered no argument, demanded absolute obedience. Weiss knew that voice all too well.

"By Jupiter's good graces, the slaves spared Lugdunum's most popular gathering spot," Glynda continued brightly, radiating smug satisfaction from the Tribunes' cowing. "A ramshackle amphitheater escaped the slaves' destruction, and some local actors will be putting on _Horatia and the Bridge _in a week's time."

"A classic," Weiss noted, to a few agreeing nods. "But aren't there more important things for the people of Lugdunum to worry about?"

"Hope is a small and furtive thing, Lady Schnee," Ozpin reminded her. "The locals need every bit of it they can muster. The revolt has hurt them deeply." And that was the end of the argument. Weiss didn't see why the actors would rather spend time rehearsing then help rebuild, but she was no peasant.

One of Ozpin's slaves handed her a copy of Glynda's tablet, and she accepted it gracefully. Mercifully, it seemed as though the meeting would be short. She rolled her shoulders, and a raw soreness made itself known. More rest and recovery was in order.

_It has been some time since I've been worked over like that._

Perhaps she allow some time for relaxation after all. In truth, _Horatia and the Bridge_ was her favorite play. A small grin stretched across her face. Horatia Cocles was the heroine of every Roman woman who took up a sword in the name of their city – in this matter, Weiss Schnee was no different from the lowliest _milites_.

_I wonder if Ruby's seen the play, _Weiss pondered._ She certainly hasn't read the tale. _A book of the Histories would serve her pupil well, she supposed. Rooted deep within them was an education in proper values and ethics, something that would serve the former farm girl well.

Standing, Weiss wrung out a crick in her neck. _I shall take her along then_, she decided. _But she'll need to double down in her other lessons first_. Especially if the centuries would be sparring in the coming weeks.

"If there is nothing else to discuss, I suggest we adjourn," Ozpin said, to a chorus of agreements.

The Tribunes departed. Jaune was swiftest, fleeing as if the fates themselves nipped at his heels. Port followed, wearing a massive smile.

"Lady Schnee," Faustinia said, catching her hand. Weiss stopped. She glared at her fellow tribune, ice-blue meeting onyx-flecked gold. "I have a proposal."

"Oh?" Weiss asked. _Trap. This is a trap. _"What say you, Lady Strabo?"

"How about a friendly wager?" The elder woman said, a crocodile's smile working its way across her face. "Let us not allow the up-jumped Arc boy be the start of bad blood between us. A match between our best centuries sounds like a good way to begin a healthy relationship."

Weiss' brow furrowed, and she searched for the reason why Faustinia would propose such a thing. _Perhaps she seeks to form some sort of convenient alliance?_

"What terms do you propose?"

"Oh, nothing extravagant," Faustinia chirped. "What say you to five denarii?"

Weiss blinked. "Pocket change?" She asked.

"As I said, it is a friendly wager," Faustinia said. "Oh," she added, the instant Ozpin turned his back to speak with Glynda. "And that centurion you lavish your attentions upon," Faustinia continued. "The illiterate cunt with ruddy hair."

Now it was Weiss turn to seethe with rage. If it wasn't for the pain that wracked her, she would have broken the older tribune over her knee. No doubt that was why Faustinia harassed her now. _Clever bitch. _Still, the insinuations and insults sewn into Faustinia's words made her blood boil. Impotent furor coursed through her, and Weiss shuddered.

"What about Centurion Rose," she hissed.

"Just personal curiosity," Faustinia said, every syllable a lie. "If I win, I would also like for you two to attend a small feast in my tent. After the denarii is paid, of course."

"If I win," Weiss said, "You will help me sacrifice a prize boar to Mara." To her delight, Faustinia turned light green at the prospect. _Yes, you have never truly given to the gods, have you? Washed your face and hands in lifeblood?_ No, the Strabo woman had spent too much time with her mother, fiddling with an abacus as she tried to recoup the family's losses.

They clasped forearms without another word, the wager settled. As they parted, Weiss pulled the bones in Faustinia's little finger from their socket with a quick twist of her wrist. To her credit, the elder Tribune did not cry out. Instead, she bit her lip and stalked out of Ozpin's tent.

Weiss watched her go, chills washing over her bruised and battered skin. _Jupiter strike that woman down_.

"That was cruelly done, Lady Schnee," Ozpin said. Mercifully, his tone was conciliatory instead of admonishing.

Weiss saluted the Legatus. "I am sorry, sir."_ How did he see that? He was standing behind her!_ "In my defense, she is the one who provoked me."

Ozpin sighed. "I know. I shall have words with her later."

"Why does she antagonize me?" Weiss asked. "From the day we left Rome, she has been nothing but cruel and snide." _And why did she seek a wager with me? What nefarious aims does she have? _"Jaune has suffered too."

A slave refilled Ozpin's wine. He stared into its depths before taking a swallow.

"Lady Strabo is much like you, in a way," he said. "But where your Grandfather used the Civil War to advance himself, it tore the Strabos to pieces. They are still recovering. You both seek the glory under Augustus, but Faustinia has struggled for two decades to secure a position as Tribune. Her father did not curry favor and play politics to achieve her goals."

"I am Daughter of Mara," Weiss protested with straight-backed pride. "If she was not qualified until now, that is her problem, not mine."

"That is not the issue," Ozpin said. "Even if you had not endured the trials, your father still would have foisted you upon the Legio Pharus. Do not pretend otherwise. You and Jaune have been given something that she has spent most of her life chasing."

Weiss opened her mouth to retort, but she could see the truth in Ozpin's words. Even if her father had not left her at the Temple, she would still have served his whims. After all, even Jaune had been marched off to war, despite his clear uneasiness.

At least Jaune had nothing to prove but himself. He had seven sisters after all… the weight of the Arc name did not rest upon his shoulders.

But the only reason Weiss did anything at all was because it was within her father's wishes.

She felt sick.

Weiss bowed her head. "Aye, Legatus."

"You are dismissed, Lady Schnee."

Saluting, Weiss turned on her heel and left the tent. Despite Ozpin's warning, she had shook Faustinia's hand. The wager was still on.

_Have you learned nothing from last night?_ She shook her head. _No. This time, I am not risking myself._

_It seems as though Ruby will need some more training._

Inwardly, Faustinia's words still ate her. It had been weeks since Weiss thought of Centurion Rose as a burden. She could no longer deny that she enjoyed tutoring the girl. Or the sanguine mood Ruby brought to her tent.

* * *

**A/N: Yeahhh, sorry about the extremely delayed update. I have been ridiculously busy. In other news, RWBY V4 HYPE! **

**If you want to see more of this story, I suggest leaving a review! If I see more demand for it, I'll be a lot quicker releasing chapters for it.**

**I hope you enjoyed today's chapter, and let me know what you think!**

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

**Plebeian: Roman society was divided into two major groups - patricians and plebians. Patricians were the wealthy elite, said to be the families of Rome's original founders. The Plebians? Well, they were everyone else.**

**Pluto: Roman God of the Underworld. (Culturally appropriated Hades)**

_**Anachronisms, issues to address, and other misc. addendum.**_

**Roman Camp Structure/Minutiae:**** I'm not sure if Blake's section is 100% accurate regarding the terminology used and the process by which another dagger was obtained. Astute readers will know that the Legions made their soldiers pay for equipment out of their own salary... but this is not something Blake knows.**

**'Artillery': When we think of artillery, we think of big booming salvos, Napoleon, or perhaps even classical music. However, artillery in the Classical period was cruder fare, mostly contraptions built from wood, rope, and leather. In the Legio Pharus, Quintus Paullus is the Tribune assigned to lead and direct the artillery, which means he's also in charge of constructing besieging equipment.**

**Horatia and the Bridge:**** An adjustment to the original legend, as I'm sure a few of my more historically-minded readers noted. Originally, the tale is _Horatius_ and the bridge, but a quirk of alternate history/alternate RWBY-verse has introduced a drastic change to one of Rome's oldest legends - one that has had a drastic effect on its society today. Originally, the tale told of a solider named Horatius Cocles who, during the earliest days of the Roman Republic, held a bridge by himself against an army of invaders while his friends destroyed the bridge behind him. He is regarded as an exemplar of Roman values, and credited with single-handedly saving Rome.**

**Lugdunum's 'Amphitheater': Fun fact, the citizens of Lugdunum did indeed build a new amphitheater around this time - the Amphitheater of the Three Gauls! However, the one described in the story is a simple wooden predecessor to what would eventually become the 'Three Gauls Theatre', as the Amphitheatre wasn't built until 19AD.**

**"It's beneath them": Jaune's comment here refers to the fact that the primary bricklayers and builders of Rome were mostly slaves.**

**WHY DOESN'T PORT HAVE A MUSTACHE?: Romans considered facial hair barbaric, so it is extremely unlikely that a Tribune of the Legion would risk his reputation for the sake of a sweet 'stache. However, the text is meant to imply he wore one at a time in his past, and misses it greatly. As a token form of rebellion, he keeps his upper lip properly stubbled. **

**"Pluto's children"****: In this RWBY-colored version of Rome, the mythology refers to grimm being the children of Pluto, God of the Underworld. The Romans currently believe that Grimm make their nests deep within the earth, lending credence to the theory of their cthonic origin.**

* * *

**Next chapter: We check in with Yang and Jaune, and stop by the streets of Lugdunum.**


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